‘Right, ghost hunters, follow me.’ Finn strode off into the darkness, his torch lighting the ruins. And, as they set out following him, yet another shiver ran down Amelia’s back. This place was creepy, and Finn hadn’t even started to tell stories of ghosts and ghouls.

He led the way round to the front of Drummondale House, where it had been restored. New windows had been put in, and the façade had been repointed. It looked every bit as it would have in the eighteenth century.

‘This was all in ruins when I was here last,’ Caroline said.

Finn nodded. ‘Michael Collis had it renovated. He occasionally rents the front section out for wedding and parties.’ Finn shone his torch towards the windows. ‘But not today,’ he continued, moving the beam across the building, rays of light bouncing off the glass. ‘Some say they have seen a face at one of the windows, when nobody is in there,’ Finn continued, his accent giving his storytelling an eerie feel. He brought the torch down and rested it under his chin, and Amelia jumped and clasped her hand to her mouth to prevent an escaping laugh.

‘Over one hundred years ago, a young boy was locked in his bedroom by his mother. His mother fell down the stairs and broke her neck, leaving the boy alone. By the time they were both found, the boy had starved to death.’

‘Oh God, that’s awful,’ Amelia said, her laugh evaporating.

‘The mother has been seen roaming the grounds, looking for her son.’

‘Christ, this is way too freaky,’ Lark said. ‘Mum, can I go back now? I’m never going to sleep tonight.’ It was an odd thing for her to say. Nothing normally scared Lark.

‘Chicken!’ Jackson said. He grabbed Lark from behind and began tickling her waist.

‘Stop,’ she cried, a painful laugh escaping. ‘Stop, Jackson, please.’

Amelia stared as Lark fell to the ground, and he toppled down on top of her. Her mum rarely got angry, but now her eyes narrowed and her fists were clenched. There was an awkward tension as Jackson clambered to his feet. ‘Stop teasing Lark,’ her mum whispered close to his ear. ‘Please.’

Amelia offered her hand to help Lark up, but she didn’t take it, her face flushed as she jumped to her feet and straightened her clothes. The moment was odd and uncomfortable – something wasn’t right.

Lark hurried towards Finn, who had moved away, her dad beside him, asking in a loud voice about the bird life in the area as though nothing had happened. Amelia looked over at her mum once more, wanting to take her in her arms and squeeze, but she didn’t – too afraid of making too much of the last few minutes. This was meant to be so perfect, but was far from it. What the hell did her mum see in Jackson?