‘Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.’

I turned to hide my face from her and swiped my hand across my cheeks. ‘I’m fine.’ I went back to the chopping board, picked up the razor sharp knife, and glanced at it. My face was reflected back at me, distorted, out of shape, a vague suggestion of me. I picked up a carrot and cut the carrots into what I hoped Eleanor would call batons, then added them to the plate with the others, which I’d arranged in a fan around the bowl of dip she’d made, making sure the ends all lined up with each other, like tiny bodies all in a line.

‘You’re quiet.’

‘I didn’t know I was working,’ I whispered.

‘What was that?’

I opened my mouth to repeat what I’d said, but then stopped myself. What was the point? She’d only say she told me about handing around the food and she’d think I was an idiot for assuming I was invited as a guest. So I kept my anger in and forced a smile.

‘When are the people arriving?’

Edie shrugged. ‘One couple is staying near Mevagissey, there’s a grandmother there or something, and the others are here already. Max picked them up from Penzance station yesterday. They’re probably lying in their rooms waiting for the sun to go down so they can come out of their crypts without bursting into flames.’

Edie reached over and took one of the carrot batons, causing the neighbouring ones to fall out of line. I carefully rearranged them so they were straight again.

There were voices outside the kitchen. Laughing. Eleanor welcoming whoever had walked down the stairs.

Then Max appeared in the kitchen.

‘Evening,’ he said, with a wide smile. ‘Thank you so much for helping us out.’

I smiled back and tucked my hair behind my ear. ‘No problem,’ I said.

‘You look lovely, by the way.’ He stepped closer to me and leant his face near my ear, and when he spoke I felt his breath on my skin. ‘That shirt looks far better on you than on Eleanor.’ He straightened himself then winked. ‘Don’t tell her I said that, of course.’

I smothered a smile as he went to the fridge and took out a bottle of champagne and tore the foil off the top.

‘Would you mind bringing those flutes out?’ He pointed to a tray of glasses beside the sink.

‘Is it okay for me to come out of the kitchen?’

He smiled. ‘Well, you’re allowed to, though after you’ve seen that lot you might feel you’re better off in here. It would be great to have a hand passing the drinks around.’