Theresa’s mind was racing now. Was Chloe fudging things, or did she really not know? ‘How did you pay for your ticket here?’

‘Oh God, Grandma, get off my case.’

Theresa retreated. She wished she hadn’t said anything about the money now. ‘Neil will call you, I suppose?’

‘That’s right.’ Chloe fastened her bag, food safely stowed, and rested it down on the floor. ‘Let’s not talk about me, hey? What time do you have to go to work? Can I stay here, or should I come with you to the restaurant?’

‘Whichever you like.’

‘I’d like to come to the restaurant. I like your friends.’

Theresa was overwhelmed at how well this encounter was going.

‘That’s some knife, Grandma.’ Chloe had picked up the knife and laid it down again. She ignored the Ravel CD, even though her name was part of the title. It didn’t look as though she had had anything to do with the mystery gifts.

‘It’s lovely here, Gran.’

Theresa knew this easy chat was a good sign. Now she must make it relaxed enough for Chloe to want to come back. ‘I’ll get you my spare key, darling. Just in case. You never know.’ As she opened the drawer next to the back door, she glanced out into the courtyard, and remembered the ghostly voice calling out Theresa. How different it all seemed in daylight.

She wondered …

‘Last night . . . You and Neil weren’t staying in the Hotel Astra, were you?’

‘No.’ Chloe used that upwards inflection which indicated that it was a stupid question not deserving a sensible answer. ‘I haven’t been in any hotels since I got here.’

As Theresa handed Chloe the key, she noticed somebody walk past the front window, for a second blocking out the sun.

Even before the doorbell rang she knew exactly who it was.

Imogen.

And she also saw that Chloe had seen her.

How to avoid this situation? There was no way. There would be an inevitable clash and she realised at this second she had totally lost Chloe’s trust.

‘You’re a liar, Gran. A big fat liar. You bitch! How could you do this to me?’

‘I thought she would arrive much later, Chloe.’ Theresa tried to reason as best she could in the few seconds she had. ‘I wanted to meet you alone. We’re all desperately worried about you, darling. Especially your mother.’

‘Is there another way out of here?’ Chloe darted to the back door; then, seeing it was a dead end, ran back.

Theresa opened the front door to Imogen.

Chloe rushed past her. But Imogen was too quick. On the doorstep mother and daughter wrestled, Imogen pulling and tugging at Chloe’s clothing and wrists. Chloe wriggled and bit her mother’s arm, trying to free herself. Then, tearing herself away, Chloe ran off up the hill.