Amelia looked around the table. Her mum and Jackson were chatting with Rosamund and Neil, and a separate conversation was taking place between Robert, Thomas and Maddie. Lark looked pale and tired as she fiddled with her phone. It was as though she didn’t belong – an outcast, an outcast who chose to be that way.

Truth was, Amelia had no enthusiasm or inclination to infiltrate either conversation, and was just about to announce she was leaving when there was a tap on her shoulder.

‘Are you married?’ It was Elise, her tone serious. Amelia turned to see the girl’s bright blue eyes fixed on her. She had an angelic face; her cheeks pinker that evening, her lips curved upwards, even when she wasn’t smiling.

‘No, but I have a partner. We live in London.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘William.’

‘Do you love him?’ Her eyes narrowed.

‘Yes, I think so.’ Amelia checked herself. ‘Yes, I do.’

‘But he’s not here with you?’ She tilted her head on one side, trapping Amelia with her stare – a stare that made her feel uncomfortable. It was as though she could see right into her head.

‘He had to work.’ The words caught in her throat as she spoke. William should be supporting me. My mum’s dying. He should be here.

Elise moved in closer. ‘Do you have children?’

‘No. But I would like a baby one day.’

‘Rosamund wants a baby,’ she whispered, from behind her hand. ‘I hope she can’t have one. I don’t like babies much – especially hers.’

Amelia felt her eyes widen, unsure what to say. ‘I have a cat.’ It came out squeaky. ‘Do you like cats?’

She shook her head, no. ‘I like dogs more.’ She moved in even closer, so their heads touched. ‘I want one. But Rosamund is allergic, so I don’t think we’ll get one anytime soon. She’s ruined everything.’

Amelia glanced at Rosamund, who seemed oblivious to their conversation, then back to Elise who slumped back in her chair.

‘I looked up Drummondale House on the Internet before we came,’ she said. ‘A young boy died here a hundred years ago.’

‘Yes, I heard,’ Amelia said, recalling the ghost walk from the night before.

‘It’s a pretty depressing place isn’t it?’ Elise screwed up her nose, and looked about her. ‘The atmosphere is heavy. Like it’s cursed or something.’

‘Elise.’ It was Neil, who was sitting the other side of Amelia, and leaning forward staring at his daughter. ‘Enough!’

‘Flip sake, Dad,’ she said, shrinking further down in her seat. ‘I’m only talking.’

‘I’m sorry about that, Amelia,’ he said. He had a kindly face, his full cheeks reddened by the warmth of the room, and possibly the two glasses of red he’d drunk. ‘Take no notice of her. It’s an amazing place. We’re glad to be here sharing this special time with your mum.’