I didn’t feel so sure. It was like my world was closing in so that I felt claustrophobic in the village. In the cottage. In the place I’d always felt safest.

‘I think you should wear my old wig,’ she said suddenly. She was standing in her familiar flamingo pose, the sleeves of her jumper halfway over her hands. ‘Hide that lovely wavy hair of yours.’

I laughed. My hair was mousy – it didn’t exactly stand out. ‘I’ll just wear a bobble hat. It’ll be cold and dark, so if Victor’s there, prowling about, it’ll be hard for him to recognize me.’

She surveyed me, a frown creasing her brow.

‘What?’ I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

‘Nothing.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s just you’re stronger than you think, Rose Grey.’

‘I don’t know . . .’

‘You are,’ she said, her voice softer now. ‘The way you escaped Victor. Really, I’m impressed.’ She blew me a kiss and turned back to her cooking.

There was a feeling of anticipation in the air as the three of us made our way to the village that evening. You were walking between us, as usual, holding each of our hands, while Daphne chatted away to you about toffee apples on sticks. I glanced over your head at Daphne. She looked carefree and happy. Not worried at all. Whereas my stomach felt like the inside of a washing machine, and every time I heard a shout of laughter or a dog barking I’d flinch. It wasn’t just Victor I was worried about. It was the thought of starting a new life away from the village with all its familiarity. I was beginning to doubt moving to Bristol. It was something Daphne had always wanted to do. I think she was worried that if we stayed here someone would eventually come looking for Neil – and find out who she really was. But I’d never liked big cities even though I grew up in London.

But Daphne was right about one thing. If Victor had found me, we had no choice but to move away.

The firework display was being held in a field near the farm where Daphne worked. It was a bit of a trek, for you especially, but you didn’t complain. You were too excited at the prospect of sugary food and fireworks. We followed the throng of people through the village square, over the bridge and towards the farm.

‘At work yesterday Sean told me there’s going to be hot dogs and a bonfire,’ said Daphne to you. You squealed in excitement and clutched our hands tighter. You were too young last year to go to any display.