Lucy sensed the thinning of the trees and the open space just ahead, and so veered off the drive, forging the last twenty yards through deep and heavy rhododendrons, switching her Maglite off. It was so late now that she couldn’t imagine anyone seeing her emerge from the woods on the drive, but she was determined to do all she could to minimise the chance. As the undergrowth lightened, she slowed, finally stopping with only a thin wall of greenery in front of her.

Beyond that, moonlight speckled by blots of cloud-shadow lay across a compelling vista.

The drive, still covered in weeds, bent left as it emerged from the woods, swerving past the spot where she now stood, and curving around what looked like an immense ornamental pond, before halting in front of a row of several large buildings. The pond, which was probably large enough to be classified as a mini lake – oval, at least a couple of hundred yards long by a hundred wide and bordered by a low brick wall – was black, flat and, in the parts where it wasn’t thick with bulrushes or dotted by lily-pads, glimmering with lunar light. The buildings were visible in great detail, the central and largest one, presumably the care home itself, a towering gothic structure with rows of ecclesiastically arched windows, a central spire and what might be gargoyles leaning down from its parapets.

It boasted a huge pair of central doors, heavily and untidily nailed over with planks, as if some frantic, terror-stricken person had hammered them there in a desperate rush to be done with the place. Above the doors, there was a colossal stone pediment, on which a grimy clockface was visible.

The buildings to left and right were more functional. Admin sections perhaps, or kitchens. One thing was certain, though; the site was still officially disused. It wasn’t just the front door. Most windows were boarded too, and there was no sign of any vehicles parked out front.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Lucy hesitated to advance further.

She had never believed in the supernatural, but she wasn’t a hard-headed rationalist either, and this was just about the eeriest-looking group of buildings she’d ever seen, particularly the main one. It would be difficult, if not impossible, wandering through the gloomy, web-shrouded halls inside, not to think about the generations of unwanted youngsters who’d passed through there, in who knew what state of sadness and depression. There’d be a lot of melancholy shadows gathered in its dingy corners.

Not that it mattered now. All that mattered at present was locating Tessa Payne.

At which point she saw the light.

Lucy squinted through the leaves.