‘That’s me.’ The girl’s face cracked into a smile. ‘Oh, you must be Prue’s visitor!’

‘Yes. Madalyn Cardew.’

‘I’m sorry, I’d expected you to be …’ The girl didn’t finish her sentence, just looked away for a moment, leaving Madi wondering just what it was about her that was so obviously not as expected. ‘You’ll be after the keys, right? Hang on a minute and I’ll walk down with you, show you around the place. How to work the fire and stuff like that. Prue’s left you a few bits – milk and bread –but you’ll probably be wanting to visit the shop for supplies in the morning, so I can show you where that is too.’

‘There’s no need. Honestly.’ Madi tried to be polite but she really didn’t need some stranger accompanying her everywhere. ‘I’ll find my own way around. And I have food. So, if I could just have the keys …’

‘Right-o. If you’re sure.’ The girl stood up, went to a back room and came back with a wax jacket, then rummaged about in the depths of its enormous pockets before finding the key ring and brandishing it aloft. ‘Got them! This big long one is for the front door, and the smaller round one for the back. Not sure about the little tiny one. I’m sure you’ll figure that out though if it’s anything important. Just shout if you need anything else, and welcome to Shelling! I think Prue’s left you a note on the table and my number’s on there, along with some others you might need. Oh, and the dustman comes on Tuesdays. Just pop your rubbish in the bin round the side. Recycling goes in a separate green one, but you’ll see that. I can sort you out a newspaper delivery while you’re here, if you’d like. My parents own the shop. Oh, and Mum does hair too, if you’re interested …’

‘Thank you. Very kind of you, but no thanks.’ Madi stepped over the dog’s outstretched paws and made a hasty escape back down the lane. All she really wanted was to collect her bags from the boot of the car, get inside the cottage and close the door on the world. No shop. No papers. And definitely not someone to do her hair.

The cottage felt chilly. She kept her coat on as she wandered from room to room which, as it was only a simple two-up two-down, didn’t take very long. The living-room furniture was old and shabby but looked comfy enough: a cream sofa covered with an oversized throw, one armchair facing a bit-too-large TV, and a coffee table piled with books and magazines. A few cat hairs floated up into the air and made her sneeze as she lifted and plumped a big flat cushion and replaced it on a squashy pouffe in front of the fireplace. Flo’s domain, obviously.

The kitchen, she saw once she’d switched on the light, was of the oak cupboards, range cooker, scrubbed wooden table in the middle kind, with a plain roller blind pulled right down over the back window. There was a small plastic cat flap low down in the door, with the dried marks from muddy paws on the doormat at its base. A separate pantry housed baking essentials, packets and tins on deep shelves, and there was a small fridge and a freezer tucked in, side by side, underneath. Despite its old-fashioned, traditional appearance, Madi was pleased to see a microwave and a washing machine, and an internet hub in the corner of the worktop so she wouldn’t have to rely on a mobile phone signal if she did decide to communicate with the outside world. A bathroom, small but adequate, led off the kitchen, housed in what looked to be a more modern extension. A bowl of blue hyacinths, just coming into bloom, sat on the windowsill above the bath, their heady scent drifting through the kitchen and right out as far as the living room.