‘It’s not bad sense, you know. I just don’t see what could happen to drive us out of this place . . . unless – ’ He broke off, to glance thoughtfully at a small pool of whisky glinting on the floor. ‘Unless – ’

‘Don’t say it!’ Meredith’s voice was sharp. His eyes swept the faces of the occupants of the room. ‘Believe me, I am speaking from experience. Do not voice any speculations that may occur to you about what could force us to leave this house. Don’t even dwell on them too much in thought.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Hunt. ‘You’ll be saying next that walls have ears!’ But his eyes worried round the room.

Bourne was at his most waspish.

‘With all due respect, Meredith, you are behaving less like a parapsychologist than a maiden aunt. Perhaps you would like us to begin looking under our beds.’

Pollard ignored him. ‘I agree with you, Meredith. At least let us get some food in the cars. And it might not be a bad idea to put blankets and clothes in them as well.’ Something in his tone of voice and expression persuaded several of the others. They nodded. Paul saw Meredith exhale with relief.

‘Good. After lunch we’ll stock up the cars.’ He turned to Bourne. ‘And then I gather you’ll want to check on Mary Rolfe’s story of the poison bottle?’

Bourne nodded shortly, lines of dissatisfaction carved deep on his face from nose to mouth. As they rose for lunch, Paul saw that more snow had come with large flakes dropping like miniature parachutists on to already occupied territory.

14

14 One Secret Revealed

In the event Bourne had to possess his soul in patience while Pollard, Swanson, Paul and Fletcher dug out the vehicles once more prior to stocking them. It was a chilly, seemingly futile task with the falling snow promising to undo their efforts. Inside the house, Carol, Ann and Joyce began to fetch blankets from the linen cupboard on the first floor and stretch them out before the fires in the lounge and dining-room. Meanwhile Hunt and Meredith selected tins of meat and biscuits, coffee, jars of Bovril, some pans, a kettle, matches, a small calor-gas double-ring stove and a camping-gas container.

The outside door was finally locked and resealed. The camera and lights were carried upstairs, along the corridor and up the narrow steep servants’ stairs to be set up within the middle attic room. The glare of light revealed in all its starkness the mean cramping sparseness of the room, its ancient peeling wallpaper, the cobwebs, the sloping ceiling. The room was empty apart from the lonely, forgotten rocking-horse in the corner, blindly facing the wall.