One consequence of the weather was that instead of hanging about outside with me, Joan called round to End Cottage once I was home from work and she had finished school. This felt more of a big deal than simply being in our joint garden together. While she was here mostly for Nesbit, I also knew she was bored and lonely at home. As the week passed, my growing unease at becoming her impromptu childcare provided enough courage to call round and talk to Leanne.

I’d positioned myself in view of the window, Ebenezer style, so I could spot Leanne coming home from work and catch her before she went to bed. I waited a courteous five minutes then went to knock on her door.

Joan answered, the traditional eon later. ‘Hi, Ollie,’ she said, glancing behind her as she spoke.

‘Hi, Joan. I was hoping to speak to your mum.’

‘Ummm…’ Joan’s eyes flickered side to side a few times. ‘She’s resting now. She’s not feeling good today.’

I sent a shooting-star-style prayer skywards that ‘resting’ wasn’t a cover-up for something far worse.

‘Could you ask her if she wouldn’t mind anyway, please? I’d really like to have a quick chat.’

Joan’s mouth drew into a thin line as she pushed the door until it was only open by the merest crack, and disappeared into the house. If it had been any other house, I’d have given up and gone back home long before the door finally creaked open. Leanne looked… well, like she needed a rest.

The contours of her face were stark against the purple shadows encircling each eye. A white tracksuit only highlighted skin that was sagging and sallow. She raised her chin, pale lips twisting. ‘What?’

‘I wanted a quick chat about Diamanté Butterfly, if that’s okay?’ I was relieved to see that, while bloodshot and lifeless, Leanne’s eyes appeared focused. I took a slow, subtle breath in but detected no whiff of alcohol. She’d only been home a few minutes, though.

Leanne folded her arms, lips pursing in annoyance. ‘What’s she done now?’

‘Nothing! Well, I mean nothing she shouldn’t have. As far as I know.’

‘That makes a change.’

‘Really?’

She raised one eyebrow in a question. ‘What, then?’

‘Do you mind if I step inside?’ While the unrelenting downpour of the past few days had eased, it was still drizzling, and it was hard to remain composed while droplets were running down my face into my mouth.

Leanne glanced behind her, in a startling imitation of her daughter earlier on, and sighed before turning and disappearing through a doorway a couple of steps down the hallway. Taking that as an invitation, I followed her into a mirror image of my living room.