Iona was driving herself slowly through the family like a knife, but Maria approached her with the certainty she could stop her going deeper.

She’d found her in the village, carefully holding a cake in her hands, picking the cherry off the top and popping it into her mouth. There was something so innocent about the way she looked, so fragile, and for a moment Maria paused. At nineteen she was barely an adult.

She began to walk over as Iona spotted her, looking amused at what she must know was going to be an awkward conversation. It didn’t take much for Maria to be on guard again, all thoughts of feeling sorry for the girl immediately disappearing. ‘Iona. I think we need to talk.’

‘Oh?’

Maria hated confrontation at the best of times, and right now this was one of the worst. ‘Let’s walk,’ she said, gesturing to the path. Iona fell into step beside her and for a moment they were silent. ‘Bonnie’s getting some strange ideas,’ she said at last.

‘How do you mean?’ Iona inclined her head to one side and looked at Maria.

‘Yesterday she asked me if you were sisters.’

‘Sisters?’ Iona laughed. ‘Where did that come from?’

‘You,’ Maria said, but she was already doubting herself. She’d been so certain Iona had put the idea in Bonnie’s head, she hadn’t stopped to ask if it could have been concocted by Bonnie.

‘Why would I tell her that?’ Iona screwed her eyes up as if the idea was completely ludicrous.

Maria fumbled in her pockets, searching for something to hold on to. ‘I don’t know why you would,’ she said. ‘That’s why I’m asking you.’

Iona smiled in such a way that already Maria was feeling like a fool. ‘Is this why you came to see me? Are you worried about Bonnie?’

‘No, of course I’m not, why would I be?’

‘I don’t know, Maria, you seem concerned about a few things recently.’ Iona brushed a hand casually against the bushes on the side of the path as they walked and Maria wondered how she’d never seen this side of the girl. Had every one of them missed it?

All of a sudden she felt a rush of panic for all her family, but especially Bonnie, who’d been dragged into the girl’s web. ‘I’m not worried about my daughter,’ she said as she continued striding ahead with what seemed like less purpose than she’d set out with.

‘And did she tell you I’d told her we were sisters?’ Iona asked, with that smile again that looked more like a smirk.

‘Well, no, not exactly.’

‘Then it’s in her head,’ Iona said bluntly.

Maria faltered. She realised she’d been naively expecting Iona to admit what she’d said and to tell her why.