‘I miss him. I miss Mummy. I miss Mummy’s cuddles. I like my new mummy, but she doesn’t smile properly and she doesn’t cuddle me very much. I want to go home.’ She started to cry again.

I tried to shush her and move the conversation on to something else, but she wouldn’t stop crying.

Eventually, feeling like I’d only made things worse, I trudged back to my bedroom and got on with my work.

I spent the rest of the day attempting to understand Othello and trying not to wince every time I heard Mother and Clarabelle. They were downstairs together. I think they baked a cake, because the delicious smell of warm sponge floated into my room.

At lunchtime, when I went into the kitchen, it turned out I was right: Mother and Clarabelle were sitting at the kitchen table together eating slices of jam sponge.

‘Good afternoon, Mother,’ I said quietly.

Mother ignored me. She smiled sweetly at Clarabelle, who stared sleepily up at me. Jam dripped from her lip onto her chin. I glanced at Mother, saw her eyes narrow at Clarabelle’s mistake. Clarabelle had ruined Mother’s careful work. I poured myself a glass of water, expecting to hear Mother tell her off, but she did not utter a word.

‘Mother?’ I tried, taking a small sip.

She smiled again at Clarabelle, licked her finger and tenderly wiped the jam off the girl’s chin.

‘Mother? Please. I know why you’re so upset. I—’

‘Leave us,’ she snapped.

‘But, Mother,’ I said urgently, stepping up to the table, ‘I can help you. I want to help.’

Mother slowly stood up and walked around to stand in front of me with her back to Clarabelle, who stayed sat at the table eating her cake.

In a harsh, lowered tone, she stabbed her finger into my chest. ‘I said leave us. What, exactly, do you not understand about that simple instruction?’

My chin trembled but I sucked in a breath and whispered, ‘I know what he did. I know why you’re acting like this.’

‘What?’ she snapped. She seemed half-angry, half-puzzled now.

‘Your grandfather. I know what he did to you. And, and, to Olivia.’

The moment I said ‘Olivia’, Mother went crazy. She grabbed my hair in her fist and dragged me out of the room. I saw Clarabelle jump up from the table, her little face pinched with fright.

‘Mother, please! I just want to help you. I love you!’

I tried to pull and twist away but I couldn’t. Mother hauled me to the front door and pushed my face against the wood.

‘Is this what you want? Is it?’ she screamed in my ear.

‘What? I don’t understand!’ I gasped.

‘You want me to kick you out? Out there? Where the light will burn you from the outside in? You want that, do you?’