I ignored Daphne for the rest of the show, not even sure why I was so cross with her. Was I jealous that she was flirting with a man? Or was it because she seemed so totally unconcerned that Victor might be here and that I could be in danger? When she was worried about Neil I was there for her. I killed for her. And in return she was acting like my situation was just one big joke.

When it had finished I clutched your hand and turned, expecting Daphne to be behind us. But she had gone.

57

Rose

Bonfire Night, 1980

I SCANNED THE FIELD FOR DAPHNE. SHE COULDN’T HAVE gone far. I’d obviously upset her with my frostiness. We rarely argued. We never really had much to argue about, living in our safe little house with you. Even with the spectre of Neil hanging over us. But now that Victor was potentially in the area, everything had turned in on itself. I was once again on full alert.

‘Mummy, tired,’ you complained, as I frog-marched you across the field. People were dispersing, and we wove in and out of them, searching for Daphne but also hyper-aware of Victor. You were still slurping at your hot chocolate although my cup was empty.

‘Sorry, honey, but we need to get home as quickly as we can,’ I said, trying to hide the fear in my voice. Why had Daphne gone off and left us when she knew I was scared about Victor? As we attempted to leave the field there was a bottleneck as everyone tried to get through the gate at the same time and we had no choice but to stop and wait. I glanced around anxiously: we were penned in on all sides by people who stamped their feet impatiently and complained loudly about the holdup. I studied every male face in case it was Victor’s and I clutched your hand tightly. ‘Don’t let go,’ I said to you, in my sternest voice. Finally the crowd gave way and swarmed forward and I breathed a sigh of relief as people scattered, but thankful that there was still enough of a throng to protect us if Victor was there.

But as we walked along the high street and up the hill towards Skelton Place everyone else had melted away and it was just the two of us.

‘Bit scared, Mummy,’ you said, gripping my hand tightly and my heart broke. You must have sensed my fear because you were never normally scared. You looked around at the high hedges and the woods that encompassed us with wide, terrified eyes. Somewhere far away an owl hooted.

‘It looks later than it is because the moon is hiding behind the clouds tonight,’ I said, trying to keep my voice jolly. ‘It’s only eight o’clock.’

‘I’m tired.’

‘We’re nearly home, not far now, just up the hill a bit. What about a piggy-back?’