Intruder Alert

Ruth told herself she was imagining things. She only hoped her suspicions wouldn’t prove to be correct...

- Nicola Cusack

It’s silent in the room. Too silent. It ’s always hard to sleep when Jim’s away.

Somehow the sound of his snoring has become like white noise to me, and without it, I keep waking up in the middle of the night.

My phone is charging by the bed and I’m about to reach for it when I hear a noise from outside and realise it was this sound that must have woken me. I hear it again – a sort of scraping, like nails on a blackboard or claws on the front door…

What on earth is it?

Without Jim, my bravery level is at low and suddenly I am glued to the bed, unable to move, straining my ear towards the window as if that will somehow help me discover the source of the frightful sounds.

I listen for a while, but the noise has stopped. A sudden wave of heat comes over me and I feel sweat beading on my brow. I know I need to throw the duvet off my body before I melt, but it takes a few minutes of plucking up courage before I am actually able to do so.

But once the duvet is finally off, somehow I feel braver. ‘Stop this nonsense, Ruth,’ I scold myself. ’Honestly, what do I think is out there? A mountain lion, a werewolf, a vampire? Too much late-night TV, I think!’

I’m at the window now and I slowly move the curtain to the side, just an inch, and put my face up against the glass to peek through the gap.