‘Yeah,’ said Josh with every appearance of calm, holding a monkey wrench in one hand and a sports bag in the other.

Where is Shauna?

He could hear movement upstairs. Floorboards creaking. Faint voices. And Connor, crying loudly.

‘Damn, you been avoiding me? That was neat, slipping out that way. You left your car there and hitched a ride with someone, didn’t you?’ Rowan laughed. ‘You’re a slippery one, aintcha? Now. That door you just came through? Open it again. Step back outside.’

Whatever they had planned, they were going to make it nice and neat, out in the garden. Josh’s heart was thwacking against his chest wall like a jackhammer. Then it happened. Suddenly there was a huge thundering crash of sound from upstairs. Rowan half-turned, startled.

‘What the fuck?’

Then there were rapid footfalls on the stairs and suddenly there was another massive noise, closer and louder than the first, and Rowan’s head burst open like a smashed watermelon. The shotgun flew out of his hands and clattered down on to the kitchen tiles.

For a moment, all was stillness.

Blood dripped steadily, like a faulty tap.

Rowan’s hand twitched, but there was no doubt; he was dead.

Then, slowly, Shauna appeared in the doorway, arms stretched ahead of her, both hands clasping the smoking Magnum. She looked down at Rowan’s corpse and then over at Josh. Upstairs, Connor was still shrieking. Shauna started to shake.

‘Oh my Christ,’ she moaned, and stepped around Rowan’s body and slumped into a chair, the gun still clutched in one hand.

‘Shaun . . .’ Josh could barely speak.

‘Ciaran came to the door and barged his way in,’ she said numbly. ‘Connor was crying upstairs and I said I had to go up and see to him. I didn’t think he was going to let me. But he did. I’ve seen the yogger up there so I got it out of the wardrobe . . .’ She was babbling, half-crying with the aftermath of terror. She’d used the old gypsy word for gun and in her panicked state she hadn’t even noticed. ‘Josh, I was afraid he wouldn’t let me go up there.’

Josh dropped the wrench and his bag and came over to her. He took the gun from her hand, put on the safety, laid it on the kitchen counter. Fell to his knees in the mess and the blood and hugged her. For that moment he forgot all he’d been told. She’d saved him. She’d saved them all.

‘You did good,’ said Josh. He was shaking too. ‘You all right?’

‘What the hell are we going to do with the . . . the bodies?’ The metal stink of blood was hot and horrible in the kitchen. ‘God, I feel sick,’ said Shauna, and staggered to the sink and threw up.