And to top it off, Kat dropped her phone in the street. She doesn’t care about the handset itself – she bought it when she first got back from Australia – but there’s stuff on there. Potentially incriminating content. She needs it back, but she can’t disappear on Sally again to look for it. She’ll have to wait.

She stares at the clock on the wall then looks down at the dog under her hand. Sirius, with his lion’s mane, wags his stubby tail under her gaze. The knots of tension each side of Kat’s neck release a single notch and she sighs. One more hour. One last dog. Then she can do what she needs to do. Go back to Beth’s. Find her phone. Make things right.

How stupid she was, thinking she could find her phone five hours after she dropped it, and with no daylight to search by. If it fell somewhere obvious, someone will have nicked it. And if it’s obscured from view, there’s no way she’ll be able to spot it in the shadowy darkness. Kat kicks the low wall of some rich man’s border in frustration. She’ll come back tomorrow morning to resume her search, but for now, all she can do is pray that it’s nestled somewhere elusive. That no one has found it, broken her worthless passcode and come to the wrong conclusions. Someone like that meddling cow Saskia.

She looks back at the Packards’ house. Their car, the spotless Mercedes four-by-four, is still missing from the side of the road, but the hallway lights are on. Kat wonders what that means. The lights could be on a timer, the house still empty, the family escaping London for the whole weekend even. But she remembers that the hallway lamps are antique with traditional switches, and she’s never noticed any of the wires and buttons you need to add smart technology.

Suddenly the living room gets swathed in light too. On instinct, Kat swivels away from the window and backs up a few steps. She wants to see Beth, but not like this, hovering outside like a stalker. Like Mark. She imagines him lying in a hospital bed and wonders how he is, if he’s regained consciousness. But then Becca’s motionless body from all those years ago suddenly comes into view, and it’s all too much, too confusing, so she grabs hold of a gate post and forces herself to breathe, from the diaphragm not the lungs, like Dr Sharp told her once.