She shook her head, shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears once more. ‘You’re probably right, Thomas. I guess I felt so alone when I woke up to find them not there, and had a bit of a meltdown. I’m being foolish.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Maddie said. She was already dressed in an emerald green jumper and black jeans, her hair in a sleek, high ponytail. She made her way into the kitchen, always so helpful – so practical.

‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ Amelia said, trying to force down the events in the night. ‘I’m sure they won’t be long.’ She stroked her mum’s back, watching her dad rise and head towards the window.

‘Breakfast is at eight,’ he announced. ‘They’ll be back for that – you’ll see.’

Chapter 33

Present Day

Amelia

I wake at 5 a.m. pretty sure five hours’ sleep isn’t the recommended amount needed to track down Ruth’s killer. My mouth is dry, and although the wood burner is flickering once more, I’m cold. I pull the blanket up around my neck, shivering.

Dad and Finn are no longer in the room, and I hear the clink of mugs and spoons in the kitchen, the kettle bubbling before reaching a crescendo. The light is on. The power is back.

‘Dad?’ I call towards the open kitchen door.

Finn appears, hair standing on end, eyes bloodshot. ‘Tea? Coffee?’ he says with a sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

‘Coffee please – three sugars.’

‘Three?’

‘It’s a one-off; I need the sugar rush.’

He sticks his thumb up, and disappears.

Soon he’s back with two mugs of steaming coffee.

‘You OK?’ I ask. Stupid question.

‘Feel a bit numb, if I’m honest.’

‘I’m so sor—’

‘Yeah. Thanks. I get that. You don’t have to keep saying it.’

‘Been up long?’ I ask after a beat, as he puts the mugs on the table, and sits on the sofa.

‘About twenty minutes.’ He rubs his temples. ‘Your dad’s upstairs getting a shower while there’s power.’

‘Ah … right.’ I nod, pick up the coffee, take a sip.

‘We need to call the police as early as possible,’ he says. ‘We’ll try and get a signal when it’s light. It’s stopped snowing, at least.’

‘Sounds like a good plan.’

‘Morning, Amelia.’ It’s Dad heading down the stairs two at a time. He looks fresh, his damp hair combed back from his face. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘Not great,’ I say. ‘You?’

‘Same.’

‘Do you want some tea or coffee, Robert?’ Finn offers, half-rising.

Dad lowers himself down into an armchair. ‘I’m fine, son.’

There’s a noise at the top of the stairs and Rosamund appears. She’s dressed in a black polo-neck jumper and black jeans that show off her baby bump, her hair swept up in a high ponytail.