‘Yes! That’s right. Emma is your real name. Polly is mine. She stole us from our real parents. She took us because she wanted us, but we have to get away. We have to get out of here and go back to our real parents.’

Emma stared at me. I could see that she was trying to wrap her brain around my meaning. But then she shook her head, ‘No. She’s nice to me. She loves me. She’s my mummy now. She said, she said, that, that …’

‘She lied. She’s not your mummy. She took you away, Emma, don’t you see? We have to get away from here.’

‘But, but, but, I can’t. I can’t go outside. The light will, will, will … hurt me.’

I reached out and took her hands in mine. They were so small, so innocent.

‘The light won’t hurt you. She lies. It’s all lies.’

‘Grown-ups don’t tell lies,’ Emma said firmly.

I sighed. How was I going to get her to believe me? She had to trust me or everything could go wrong.

‘Your real mummy and daddy don’t tell lies. Most grown-ups don’t, but she does. She’s different.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why does she lie?’

I shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘I don’t know. I wish I did, but I don’t. All I know is that we need to get out of here, away from her. We need to go and find our real parents.’

‘I’m scared,’ she said.

‘You don’t need to be scared. You just need to do everything I tell you to. OK?’

She nodded, but her eyes wandered to the door.

‘Promise me you’ll do what I say, when I say it? Emma, promise me.’

She looked at me, her eyes wide and wet. ‘I promise,’ she paused, ‘Polly.’

‘Good. Good girl. OK. This is what we’re going to do …’

Chapter 23

‘Mother! Mother! Come quick! It’s Clarabelle!’ I screamed the words at the top of my lungs, standing just outside the spare room. I screamed the words over and over and over, only stopping when Mother’s footsteps pounded up the stairs. She turned sharply on the landing, using the banister to propel herself round.

‘What happened? What have you done to her?’ she screamed, eyes crazed, full of panic.

‘I don’t know! She’s in bed and she won’t move!’ I panted back. I pointed through the open doorway to the bed. An Emma-sized mound lay beneath the bedcovers.

‘Move!’ she barked at me, rushing into the room. ‘Clarabelle! Clarabelle, talk to me!’