They struggled on a few more paces before they came to a bench where they could lay Esther down gently and have a bit of a breather. Through the heavy breathing and gentle sweating, Susan closed her eyes and thought of McGraw. She shouldn’t have let his presence at the party unsettle her like that. Maybe if she’d stayed inside the house, she’d have seen what Esther was doing, been able to stop her before she’d gone into those sleazy lads’ bedroom.

Susan looked across at where Daisy was standing, hands on hips, head tipped back to study the sky. There were times when Susan wondered whether she underestimated how capable Daisy really was . . .

“Do you think maybe those boys really were just trying to get some help with their Ouija board?” Daisy asked.

Esther woke after midday. There was a little care package of foodstuffs and drinks with a note from Daisy at the foot of her bed, and she delicately picked the lot up and returned to bed. Gazing out her window, Esther watched some people kicking about in the leaves that had gathered in the corners of the buildings and thought of all the times she’d grumbled at being forced to help her parents clear leaves in the garden. Squabbles that turned into rows and door slamming and hours spent muttering how she couldn’t wait to move out.

She never thought she’d be sitting here at university dreaming of moving back.

“Hello?”

“Dad. It’s me.”

“Sorry, who’s this?”

“Er . . . the only person who calls you ‘dad’???” Esther shot the phone a disgusted look.

“Might be a wrong number.”

“It’s not a wrong number. It’s your daughter.” Then, even though she was the only child they had, she added, “Esther.”

“I know your name.”

“Well, apparently you don’t know my voice.”

“Maybe because it’s been so long since I’ve heard it.” But the tone Esther’s dad used was gentle, and Esther—puffed up and ready to be difficult—held back. “How’ve you been, love? Tell me all about it.”

No mention of The Boy. No mention of the fact that her parents had been right. Just straightforward parental interest.

“I’m fine.”

Esther’s dad left a pause long enough for Esther to elaborate before he prompted, “Have you been going to all your lectures?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Finding them interesting?”

“Yup.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Esther frowned down at the foot she’d propped on the windowsill and picked at a loose thread on the seam of her sock. “Not really.”

It wasn’t like she was going to tell her dad anything about the random she’d gotten together with, or her photo appearing on that website, or what had happened with the Ouija boys. All of a sudden, Esther wasn’t so sure that she really had wanted to ring home.