‘It wasn’t in the plan to kill either of them. In fact, I didn’t want any of you to die – not even Elise. I’m not a murderer.’

A thought seeps into my head, like a black river drowning my hopes. ‘Did you kill Lark and Jackson?’

‘No.’ She presses the knife against my neck once more. ‘Why would you even think that?’ She lays her hand against my chest. ‘My, my, your heart is beating like a drum, Amelia.’

The back door opens. ‘Amelia?’ It’s Dad, stepping in and bringing with him a waft of fish and chips.

Rosamund looks down at me, and places her finger against my lips. ‘Shh,’ she whispers.

‘Amelia,’ Dad calls again. ‘Your chips are here, don’t let them get cold.’ Blissfully unaware I’m in the corner held at knifepoint he opens a cupboard, singing to himself as he pulls out a jar of pickles. ‘Amelia!’

He finally turns, and the jar slips from his fingers, crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

‘Dear God,’ he cries, limping across the kitchen, but he stops when Rosamund pushes the knife deeper into my flesh, so close to cutting through the skin again. ‘Christ, Rosamund, what the hell?’

I’m silent, the pulses in my head thumping. Knowing the trickles of blood on my throat is nothing to what Rosamund is capable of.

‘Let her go,’ Dad cries. He edges forward, blinking furiously, and Rosamund rises to her full height and before he can step away, she lunges at him, plunging the knife into his stomach, then pulling it free. He falls to the floor, yelling in agony.

I let out a scream. ‘Dad,’ I cry, trying to get up.

But Rosamund is quick. She has the knife back at my throat in an instant.

‘You do know this means you both have to die,’ she says.

‘Why?’ Dad whimpers, his body crumpled in pain.

‘Oh, it’s nothing to do with you, Robert. Don’t give yourself any credit. That was a very long time ago.’ She turns to me. ‘It’s OK; your father turned me down. You’re a good man, aren’t you, Robert? Such a shame Caroline couldn’t see that. Even she couldn’t resist Jackson.’

I want to hit out – she’s going to kill me anyway – but I can’t move. I’m frozen in fear.

Chapter 48

Present Day

Amelia

Rosamund closes her eyes for a brief moment, sucks in a sigh, and moves the knife away from me. I stay still. With one stroke she could slit my throat.

From her crouching position, she thumps down on the floor and, knees bent, she sits next to the half-open kitchen door, the knife dangling in one hand.