By now I knew I had feelings for Daphne. Feelings that I hadn’t had since my last relationship, with Audrey. I’d not allowed myself to get close to anyone after she hurt me like she did. But I couldn’t help the way I felt about Daphne. I had no clue if she felt the same. Sometimes, when she touched my cheek, or came up too close, or lifted her feet into my lap when we sat on the sofa, I wondered if perhaps she did. But I was too scared to do anything about it, not wanting to cross that line. Not wanting to make her leave.

We were so happy that we forgot to be on constant alert, even though we should have been. We should have been extra careful when we realized somebody was looking for Daphne. But as the weeks passed, and there were no further sightings of a male visitor to the village, we were lulled into a false sense of security, naively thinking her disguise would keep us safe. Like a haircut and colour was enough to hide her. How stupid we were.

We should have been prepared, but we weren’t.

So when he turned up at our front door that blustery evening in early April he caught us off guard.

35

Lorna

‘WELL,’ SAYS ONE OF THE TWO UNIFORMED OFFICERS, walking into the living room where Lorna and Saffy sit, side by side, hands curled around mugs, adrenalin and fear keeping them awake even though they’re both exhausted. They’re still wearing their coats. The two policemen have been combing the house for the last twenty minutes. ‘It looks like nothing has been taken. No jewellery, no electronics. This is a strange break-in.’

Lorna exchanges a glance with her daughter. This, she is certain, is the work of that bastard, Davies. The contents of her mother’s boxes are strewn across the floor. He was obviously looking for the ‘evidence’ that he seems convinced her mother has buried here in the cottage. If there is any such thing, she wonders if he’s found it. Maybe then he’ll leave them alone.