‘Sure, honey. Just as soon as Auntie Kate is better, okay? Now, we’ve really got to go, or they’ll be sending the cavalry out to look for us. Say goodbye, Sophie. We’ll see you next Sunday, Will. I’ll ring from the motel and we’ll make arrangements then.’

Will accompanied them to the big Ford, Sophie still clutching his hand. Reaching the car, she looked up at the façade of Holland House and said to Will, ‘It’s no wonder Auntie Kate is ill, living here.’

Will tilted his head to one side. ‘What do you mean, sweetheart?’

She looked at Will, and then climbed into the car. ‘Auntie Kate draws those wonderful pictures for children, doesn’t she? Like my Snapdragon? Which means she must love kids.’ She looked at the house again, and it seemed to Will that she was looking directly at the long window of Kate’s studio. ‘I thought you’d be living somewhere as magical as the Garden of Gort, but you don’t. It must be horrible living in a place like this, and I sure can’t imagine any child liking it here.’

Will stood rooted to the spot. Perhaps Kate had been right all along. This house really was no good for children.

As the car moved away, he looked at the sea bank. With her shoulders hunched and her hands pushed deep in her pockets, Kate was slowly making her way back towards the house. He kept his eyes fastened on her until she was almost at the garden gate. He was frightened, no longer in control. And more than anything, he hated Holland House. If nothing else, he knew that they had made a terrible mistake in coming to live on Whisper Fen. It had taken Sophie to finally open his eyes. The place was unhealthy, cloaked in a miasma of despair. As she drew nearer, he saw his wife’s sunken cheeks. Worst of all, the place was killing her. Laura’s warning that matters might eventually be taken out of his hands suddenly didn’t seem so improbable.

Stepping in through the gate, his wife said, ‘Who the hell was that in the big car?’

He told her about Philip and Sophie’s surprise visit.

‘And you didn’t know they were coming?’ Her tone was accusatory.

‘Of course I didn’t! Philip’s orders came through too late to ring us, then he couldn’t get a signal.’ It sounded a little lame, even to him.

‘So, you are telling me that he has come to attend some high-powered conference without any notice or preparation?’

‘The officer who was to attend was taken ill. Philip took his place. He’s had to go straight to Waddington to be briefed.’

‘And he just happened to have the kid with him? You may think I’m stupid, Will, but next time you concoct a story, make it believable, will you?’