Amelia watched her sister meander along the beach, tall and willowy in her flowing black dress, and jacket, the breeze catching her blonde hair. She wanted to go after her, tell her everything would be OK. But it was hard to leave, and in truth she wasn’t sure everything would be OK, and eventually Lark was out of sight.

‘That’s pretty good.’ It was Elise, by Amelia’s side, admiring her attempts at building a sandcastle.

‘I thought I might add a moat,’ Amelia said, drawing a circle around her castle with her gloved finger. ‘But I need water, and I didn’t bring a bucket.’

Elise laughed, and rummaged in her rucksack. ‘Here,’ she said, brandishing a large empty water bottle.

‘Right, let’s get some water then.’ Amelia rose, brushed sand from her jeans, and followed Elise towards the sea.

Once at the water’s edge, Elise bent and scooped water into the bottle. ‘This could take a while,’ she said, as a frothy wave covered her wellington boots. ‘So, what do you think of Drummondale House?’ She rose with the full bottle, and, staring at it, gave it a shake.

‘It’s OK, why?’

‘I think it’s a bit eerie with those ruins and creepy statues. My wicked stepmother thought it was charming, until I told her about the masked figure, and now she’s officially freaked.’ She giggled.

Amelia’s eyes widened. ‘What do you mean, masked figure?’

‘Oh, don’t worry. I made it up to give her the creeps.’

‘You don’t like her?’ She glanced up the beach at Rosamund.

‘Can’t stand her.’ Elise screwed up her face. ‘She flirts with other men, and Daddy just can’t see it. Daddy says I’ve got to learn to get along with her, but I never will. I hate her.’

‘Hate is a strong word.’

‘But she stole my dad from me.’ She glared up the beach. ‘Christ she’s coming. I bet she thinks I’m talking about her.’

‘Elise!’ Rosamund called as she hurried down the sand. ‘Everything OK?’

‘I was just telling Amelia about the masked figure, is all.’ She threw Amelia a conspiring look.

‘Darling, Daddy wants you,’ Rosamund said, seeming to ignore the comment about the masked figure.

‘Fine.’ Elise handed Amelia the bottle, water splashing from it, and hurried away, skipping up the beach towards her father, the pom-pom on her hat bouncing.

*

‘She can be difficult,’ Rosamund said, as they ambled back up the beach. ‘She’s played some awful tricks on me over the past two years. But I’ve got used to it. Her father’s away a lot, and she’d been without a mother figure for so long. Neil relied on nannies who never lasted. She put a frog in the last one’s bag the day she left.’

‘Maybe she needs to see a psychologist.’