'This deft, devourable novella is one part Barbara Pym, one part Patricia Highsmith, and all parts Sara Marchant' —Jill Alexander Essbaum, author of HausfrauOn an East Coast island, full of tall pine moaning with sea gusts, Delilah moves into a cottage by the shore. The neighbours gossip as they watch her cleaning, black hair tied back in a white rubber band. They don't like it when she plants a garden out front – orange-red Carpinus caroliniana and silvery-blue hosta. Very unusual, they whisper. When Delilah is visited by a man in a sports car from off the island, tongues begin to wag, and when she strikes up a friendship with the local police officer, they wag even harder. But none of that matters to Delilah, someone else has caught her eye. Across the driveway lives a man who never goes out. Delilah knows he's watching her and she likes the look of him. But it seems he has secrets of his own, and perhaps life is too complicated already...