Rachaela gathered her wits. She saw again Ruth kneeling on the floor in her shawls and lipstick, while the child Lucile snivelled on the blue bed.

‘You mean this family legend about vampirism.’

‘They are,’ said Ruth. She corrected herself. ‘We are. There’s no daylight in the house. They only go out of doors at night. Apart from Cheta and Carlo, the servants, who aren’t pure Scarabae, and they have to muffle up.’

‘Then why are you sitting here in the sun, Ruth?’

‘I haven’t changed yet.’

‘And when will you change?’

‘When I marry Adam.’

Ruth writhing, kicking and screaming on the black piano, Adamus on top of her, his mouth at her throat, a tiny trickle of scarlet.

‘I married Adam. Nothing happened to me.’

‘You’re not like us. Your mother was a stranger.’

‘Ruth, I need time with you. I want you to come back to London with me.’

‘No thank you,’ Ruth said, ‘Mummy.’

Rachaela saw Ruth alter inside her flesh. She became concentrated, dangerous, as Rachaela had seen her once before. There was a light to the eyes, the teeth looked sharp and the fingernails long. Try to touch now, and this creature would bite and scratch. It would punch into a breast as it had when a baby, and wriggle away and get free. There was a demon in Ruth. The Scarabae demon, but given a fresh and hybrid life.

A blot of darkness on the sunlight made Rachaela turn her head.

Carlo had come out of the house and was standing, clear of the trees, without any pretence, watching them.

He wore his outdoor things, his hat and scarf and sunglasses, in the broiling heat.

Ruth turned too and jumped up.

There’s Carlo. I’m going to make an apple-pie with Maria.’

She ran towards the house, lifting up her long skirt.

She passed Carlo, who continued a moment to stare down at Rachaela on the grass, before himself turning away and back into the pines.

There was nothing else to do. She must stay. She must be their witness. That way there might be a chance. She must stay.

He was no threat to her now.

And she would see him again.

In parting them, she would have dealings with him. The only dealings she might have.

Anna turned the key in the door of the locked room. Unice held up the lamp.

‘It will be very dark.’

‘We must be careful.’

The old women rustled like crisp paper.

They were all there, the women but not the men. Rachaela stood behind them all, in her place as witness.

Ruth was beside Anna.

The lamp slid into the room and lit it crazily. It was a cave, without windows, full of stripes and bulbs of redness.

Miriam and Teresa slipped ahead into the dark and there came the noise of struck matches, little spurts of flame.

A row of candles had been ignited along the walls.