‘Oh. Anna. You made me jump. I was only grabbing this.’ She waves a bottle of wine in my direction. ‘One of Dominic’s “good” ones from the cellar.’ She says cellar, she means garage. But I don’t pick her up on it, I wouldn’t dare. ‘Actually. Shall we save it for later?’ Her eyes darken, and I shrug. I don’t drink. I don’t know how many times I’ve told her that, although I suppose she can be excused for forgetting lately. I haven’t touched a drop since I left Scotland. ‘I think I might take a walk down to the church.’ She looks at me, and I can feel her desperation leaching off her in waves. ‘Come with me? I’m not sure I want to be alone right now.’

‘I’m sure Kelly would . . .’ I start.

‘No, not Kelly. I want you to come, Anna. Kelly doesn’t even know Laurel.’ Fran lifts her chin as if daring me to say no.

‘I’ll get my coat,’ I say.

We walk in silence along the narrow lane that leads to the church, the sun completely set by the time we reach the top of the slight hill that the church sits on. It’s almost eerily quiet, the moon casts a pale, white glow across the pavement and our breath comes in smoky clouds as the temperature drops. Again, there is that faint tinge of bonfire smoke on the air, that makes my stomach flip. In the houses further along from the church one brave soul already has Christmas lights in the window, despite the fact that we still have another week before November fades into December, and they twinkle brightly, a puff of colour in the dark, chilly evening. We follow the short gravel path to the heavy church doors, pausing when we reach them. The dark oak doors are pulled tightly shut.

‘Is it even open?’ I ask, in a low voice, as though if I speak too loudly I’ll wake the ghosts in the graveyard.

‘A church is never closed,’ Fran says in a solemn voice, shaking her hair back from her eyes before she reaches for the handle, turning it stiffly and shouldering the heavy door open. Inside, the church is dimly lit, and the temperature is not much above what it is outside. Fran makes her way in confidently, and I get the feeling that despite the Jessops’ not being a particularly religious household, she has been here before.