The following morning I cannot get off the island quickly enough. All night my thoughts have tumbled over each other, reaching crescendos of fear, trying to make sense of what Danny has done.

In the morning I wait until the last moment to slip out of my room, leaving a note for Rachel on my bed to tell her I’m going a day early. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to face any of them. It won’t be long before they learn of my brother’s confession, and when that happens I won’t be here.

As soon as I’m on the ferry and the mainland is within sight, my phone springs into life. I call Bonnie, and when she doesn’t answer I leave her a message to call me back urgently, that I’m on my way home but I need to speak to her.

Once I’m at Poole Quay I call her again but there’s still no answer, and when, half an hour later, the same thing happens it crosses my mind she’s doing this on purpose – letting me know she has control back after I left her. I’m nearly in Winchester by the time she calls, and by then she’s already heard the news from a police officer.

‘When did you find out?’ she shouts.

‘This morning,’ I lie. There’s no point reiterating my lack of phone reception. ‘I got on a ferry as soon as I heard. I’ve been calling you ever since.’

‘I didn’t have my mobile on me.’ A lame excuse but I don’t bother arguing.

Instead I tell her I’m going straight to her place and within twenty minutes I’m ringing her doorbell.

‘Aunt Stella.’ Harry breaks into a grin as he answers the door. ‘Mum said you’d gone away.’

‘Hi, Harry.’ I kiss him on the cheek as he lets me pass. ‘Why aren’t you in school?’

‘I’m sick,’ he says and coughs loudly. ‘Mum’s in a weird mood,’ he adds quietly. He raises his eyebrows at the sound of a pan crashing to the kitchen floor, followed by Bonnie swearing. ‘Are you sure you want to stay?’

‘I’d better,’ I say, confident he’s unaware of what’s happened.

Harry follows me through to the kitchen, announcing my arrival like I am the Queen. It’s something he’s done since he was little but today his mum barely looks up. ‘See,’ he whispers, loud enough so he knows Bonnie will hear. ‘Weird mood.’

‘Harry, give us some space,’ she says, straightening her back and rubbing the base of her spine. ‘Please,’ she adds softly, and I wonder why Bonnie only ever reveals her fragility with her children.