As soon as we were home, she handed me one of the broken puppets. A peace offering, she said. Tangled strings and chipped paintwork, its nose sheared off completely.

I could have packed my things and stolen some money from the till or Birdie’s purse, and run far, far away.

But Birdie wouldn’t have suffered then, and where was the fun in that?

10

Sunday 29th July 2018, 9:30 P.M.

25 The Avenue

Across the hallway from her brother, Aster Lockwood was considering the myriad of ways she could run away. Hitchhiking would be too risky, but she didn’t want to spend her own money on the train fare. Perhaps she could borrow her mother’s credit card. Or persuade Matthew to drive down and collect her. The lure of a seminaked selfie never failed to surprise her.

The moving men had put together her bed, but the rest of her former life was in cardboard boxes strewn across the floor. She couldn’t be bothered to unpack, especially as she wasn’t planning to stay.

Two months ago, her parents had sat them down, Aster and her brother, Evan, and told them they would be moving from their family home in Cheshire to a small Essex town near the sea. It would mean new schools and new friends. Evan had cried. Aster had picked up her glass of cordial and poured it over her mother’s head.

“This is your fault.” The words had been a hiss. “I hate you.”

Olivia had not shouted or even reacted. She had sat there, hair plastered to her face, the pink liquid dripping down her shirt, soaking her bra and her skin. Aster had enjoyed slamming the door, and the surge of power it gave her. If her mother thought she’d ever forgive her for ruining everyone’s lives, she’d be waiting forever. Her mother was so old. The whole sordid mess made Aster feel hot and sort of dirty.

Her new room wasn’t bad. Bigger than the one in the old house. With a sofa and TV, it might even be decent. The curtains had been taken down and packed up by the previous owners, but her father had promised her shutters. She scrolled through her phone. Matthew was already asking when he could visit. She supposed she’d have to check with her mother, which irritated her because her mother never bothered to check anything with the rest of the family.

Aster wandered over to the window and looked out on the street below. A length of police tape cordoned off the entrance to the woods where the body had been found. The trees were thick and dense, spread out so widely that she couldn’t see where they ended. A couple of officers were standing on the pavement. A woman with a large bag on her shoulder and a camera in her hand was firing off shots while a man in a suit was talking on his phone and scribbling notes on a pad.

She would post the pictures she’d taken later. Her friends would lose their shit when they saw the dead body, even if it was hidden under a sheet.