Grace had known, of course, that there was no car available. Thea had told her that from the start. And she had been almost numb from fear or exhaustion or pain or trauma. The implication of her story seemed to be that she had flown in from some foreign place, landing at Manchester and being swiftly collected by people who turned out to be of malevolent intent. A simple story, if hard to credit in the smiling English countryside. While Thea knew there were people traffickers and drug smugglers and poachers of rare animal species – and many other extreme sorts of crime – all going on within a few miles of where she was sitting, she had very seldom been made directly aware of them. The many killings she had stumbled across since embarking on her role as a house-sitter had almost all had simple domestic explanations. Feuds, jealousies, old grievances and sudden flashes of rage had been more than enough to account for them. The idea that now there might be something much larger and nastier behind this particular sudden death was alarming. It felt fantastic, almost unreasonable – which she admitted to herself was foolish. But it took everything she knew about human 93behaviour to a different and much more threatening level. If there was some sort of ruthless gang operating from behind the bland facade of the Barnsley Business Park, then what hope did she have of evading them? If they thought Grace might have revealed a secret about them, they might well come after Thea herself.

With her mind full of unsettling thoughts, she firmly locked the front door and went upstairs. As on the previous night, she wedged the chair under the door handle before climbing into bed.

Monday morning was not only cloudy but damp. Light rain was falling, as it had done on and off for much of the summer. The weather had been a contributory factor to Thea’s sense of imprisonment at home and exacerbated her restless mood with every passing week. That was why she’d accepted this unappealing commission, she reminded herself. That, and the money she was being paid, and the rampant curiosity she always felt in a new place.

But she shook off the inclination to revisit reasons and excuses, and tried to brace herself for whatever events might be in store for her over the coming day. Whatever happened, there would be people, voices, activity. After the silence of the previous evening, that in itself would be welcome.

And so it turned out. At precisely nine o’clock, a truck drew up just inside the front gate, disgorging two men. Thea met them on the doorstep, rapidly ascertaining that they knew nothing about the ructions of the day before. ‘Hi – I’m Sid and this is Dave,’ said the older man. ‘You 94must be the house-sitter. Not very comfy for you, with no kitchen. How’ve you been coping? Mrs Ibbotson knew where her best interests lay, didn’t she? Soon as things got tricky, she found herself suddenly in great demand somewhere in Europe. Missed this weather, as well, lucky cow.’