Granfer smiled then covered his mouth to cough. When his hand dropped away I saw his papery skin was coated with a fine spray of blood spatters which mingled with the liver spots. He noticed me staring and dropped his hand, then shuffled into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

I needed to get back to bed. I was feeling light-headed, which wasn’t surprising given how little sleep I’d had. As I turned towards my box room, I was stopped by the sound of a key in the front door. I ran back to the banister and leant over it to see Mum hanging her bag on the hook and taking her jacket off.

‘Hey,’ I called down. ‘Granfer said you wouldn’t be back till two. Why didn’t you tell—’

Her look stopped me mid-sentence. There was something wrong. Her eyes shifted from side to side and the fingers of one hand teased the hem of her sleeve.

‘Are you okay?’

She didn’t reply.

There was a letter in her other hand.

‘Is that from Edie?’

‘Tamsyn.’ She hesitated. ‘We need to talk.’

Alarm snatched at me. ‘What is it?’ She didn’t answer, but lowered her eyes. ‘Mum? Tell me.’

She lifted her head and nodded, taking a visible breath as she climbed the stairs towards me. She walked past me, into my box room, and sat on my bed. I followed her in and sat beside her. The room felt even smaller than usual, as if the walls had closed in on us, as if they were slowly squeezing the air out.

‘You’re scaring me, Mum.’ All I could think about was my brother. That something had happened to him. The thought made me nauseous. ‘Is Jago okay?’

‘Jago?’ She looked at me with a furrowed brow and then shook her head. ‘Yes. Yes. He’s fine. I mean, I think he’s… It’s not him. It’s…’

‘What?’

‘I was at the Davenports’. And, well, I heard them talking. Arguing. She… She’s not…’

‘What is it, Mum?’

‘Mrs Davenport…’ Her face creased as she struggled to find the next word. ‘She doesn’t want us back at The Cliff House.’

I frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You and I. We’re not allowed back there.’

‘Oh my God. What did you do?’ I didn’t even try to temper my angry accusation.

‘I didn’t—’

‘What did you do?’ I shouted it this time.

‘Nothing, Tamsyn. I did nothing.’

‘You must have!’ My stomach churned. ‘She was fine with me last night. She did my make-up. Leant me a shirt. Said I was an angel and a godsend and she didn’t know what she would have done without me. The last thing she said to me was thank you and do stay the night. I haven’t seen her since then. So it must be you. You must have done something.’