‘When was the last time you were in your attic?’ Thomas said.

Jacob laughed, pointed at his walking frame. ‘Look at me. When do you think?’

Dorothy took a seat at the table too. ‘Has anyone been up there recently?’277

‘No,’ Jacob said, confused. ‘What is this?’

Dorothy gave Thomas a look.

‘We think someone is living up there,’ Thomas said.

‘What?’

Dorothy nodded. ‘We have footage. She comes down at night when you’re asleep.’

‘Susan?’

Dorothy shook her head. ‘It’s not Susan Raymond. We think it might be Monika.’

Jacob coughed, swallowed hard. ‘I don’t understand. How can someone be living up there?’

Thomas glanced at the ceiling. ‘Can we take a look?’

‘You think she’s up there now?’

Dorothy shrugged.

Jacob made a vague hand gesture towards the ceiling, giving permission.

‘Wait here,’ Thomas said to Dorothy.

She shook her head. ‘No, I need to see.’

Thomas knew better than to argue.

‘We’ll be back in a moment,’ Dorothy said to Jacob, who just sat there shaking his head.

She followed Thomas up the stairs and they stood under the hatch in the ceiling. On his tiptoes, Thomas could just reach the hatch, lowered it quietly, the ladder unfolding automatically.

They stood and listened. No sound.

‘Don’t bother telling me to stay here,’ Dorothy said quietly.

‘OK, but I’ll go first.’

Thomas placed careful feet on the ladder and up he went, Dorothy behind. Thomas paused before peering over the top, then glanced back and shrugged, continued up the ladder and into the attic. Dorothy got her head through the hatch and looked around. She half expected someone to come running at her with a baseball bat, or to grab her hair and shove her down the ladder.

She kept up the ladder, taking in the room. It was a large space, 278the slope of the eaves not too steep. It was floored, cheap chipboard, with piles of cardboard boxes here and there, a set of golf clubs and some old dumbbells in a corner. There were two small skylights that had sheets pinned over them, spreading diffuse light into the space. And over against the far wall was a mattress with a pile of bedding on it, including a sleeping bag, a duvet and a blanket. Next to the mattress was an open sports bag full of women’s clothes, a bag of toiletries, a pair of trainers, a bottle of water and a torch. There was also a small basin, which smelled of urine as Dorothy got closer. Thomas was ahead of her, soft steps towards the bed too, and as they got closer Dorothy saw the bed covers move, then she heard a snuffle and saw the top of a woman’s head sticking out from the sleeping bag.

She exchanged a look with Thomas, who crouched down next to the woman then gently shook her.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Wake up.’