‘Are you OK, Mum?’ Amelia asked.

‘She’s fine,’ Jackson said, his eyes boring into the side of her mother’s head. ‘Aren’t you, darling?’

‘Of course, yes. It’s no big deal. No big deal at all.’

‘My go,’ Elise said.

‘Maybe we should call it a night,’ Jackson said. ‘What do you think, Caroline?’

‘Yes, I’m tired. I thought maybe we could all go for a walk in the forest in the morning; it’s meant to be sunny.’ She went to rise.

‘No!’ Elise yelled. ‘It’s my go, and I’m having it whether you like it or not.’

Jackson glared at Neil, as though asking him to chastise his child, but Neil said nothing.

‘I saw a masked figure wandering around Drummondale House last night.’ Elise grinned, staring at Rosamund. ‘Truth or lie?’

‘Liar,’ Rosamund snapped, as everyone else remained silent.

Elise glared at Rosamund. ‘One day you’ll be so sorry you came into our lives,’ she yelled, and ran from the conservatory. Within moments, Neil and a flushed-cheeked Rosamund were on their feet too, and dashing out after her.

Thomas, who’d been watching everything unfold, sighed. ‘How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.’

‘The Bard,’ Jackson said.

‘Indeed.’

‘The girl is a walking time bomb, quite frankly.’ Jackson dragged his fingers through his hair. ‘They really need to get her some kind of help.’

‘She seems quite sweet sometimes,’ Maddie said, looking puzzled by the child’s behaviour.

‘Well, she’s definitely got it in for Rosamund,’ Amelia said, rubbing her eyes, and rising to her feet. ‘Actually, I think I’ll head back too.’ She fumbled her arms into her jacket, desperate to get away. She leaned in and kissed her mum’s cheek. ‘Night, all,’ she said, turning and heading for the door.

‘Night,’ Finn said, smiling at her as she left. ‘Don’t let the bed bugs bite.’

Chapter 29

Present Day

Amelia

‘We can’t leave Ruth outside.’ Thomas’s brown eyes widen, as he drums his fingers on his knees. He’s in shock. We all are.

‘I’ll boil some water on the stove, make some strong tea,’ Maddie says, disappearing to the kitchen carrying a flickering candle.

‘Well, there’s no way I’m carrying a dead body inside,’ I say, my voice shaky. I lower myself down onto the sofa, attempting to recall the one session of mindfulness I attended just after I lost my baby. But trying to focus on it isn’t working; I’m a complete wreck. ‘You should have seen her, Thomas. It was awful.’ I cry.

Thomas moves his wheelchair closer to me, and puts on the brake. ‘We need to call the police,’ he says.

‘Can you get a signal?’ I say, tears burning my eyes. I’d tried as we walked back from finding Ruth. ‘Because I bloody well can’t, and neither can Dad.’