‘I’ll stay out here with you, if you like,’ Rosamund says.

‘No. No, it’s fine.’ She fumbles in her pocket for her cigarettes, her hands shaking. ‘I just need some space. Thanks though.’

‘But you can’t be out here on your own,’ I say. ‘I’ll stay with you. Remember what we said about sticking together.’

‘For God’s sake,’ she snaps, and glares at me. ‘I’ll be five minutes, is all. Just let me be. I’ll be in shortly.’

Rosamund and I exchange looks as we head inside, and I slam the door to make a point.

‘She shouldn’t be on her own,’ I say, as I pull off my boots. ‘We’re meant to be looking out for each other.’

‘Where’s Maddie?’ Dad says, looking up from the armchair.

‘Outside, having a cigarette.’

‘Alone?’

‘Mmm, she didn’t want us to stay with her.’

‘I’ll go out there.’ He rises.

‘She wants space, Dad. That’s what she said.’

‘Well, tough.’ He throws on his coat and scarf and disappears outside.

‘We should stay in threes,’ I say, hanging up my coat, my head spinning. ‘That’s what we agreed, wasn’t it?’

‘Dad isn’t a killer, Amelia.’ Thomas glares at me from the sofa, as though he can’t believe I would think it.

‘I know, but …’

He narrows his eyes. ‘I know you’ve never liked her much, but Maddie’s no killer either.’

‘Well someone fucking is,’ I cry, surprised how angry my words sound. Tears are close, and my stomach aches with tension. I flop down in the armchair Dad vacated, and bury my head in my hands.

Nobody speaks for some time. It’s as though there’s a bomb in the room, and any movement will set it off.

‘Maybe I’ll go back out there,’ Rosamund says eventually, and I look up to see her standing by the door. She’s still in her boots and coat, her hand on the doorknob.

‘No, Rosamund, I’ll go.’ But she’s through the door before I can scramble to my feet.

‘And then there were two,’ Thomas says in a silly, creepy voice, as she closes the door behind her.

I turn to meet his eye. ‘I’m afraid, Thomas,’ I say simply.

He stares at me, his face so pale. ‘Me too, sis. Death is a fearful thing.’

I have the beginnings of a headache, and I’m hungry too; my sugar level has dipped to silly levels.

‘I might go to Ruth’s cottage and grab some food in a bit,’ I say to Thomas, after we’d sat in silence for ten minutes. I point the remote at the TV, and flick through the channels, until I reach the weather, which looks as grim as ever.

‘Don’t go out there alone,’ Thomas says. ‘Wait for Dad.’