‘Actually, I have something for Maude,’ said Evie. ‘If that’s OK?’ She looked at Nell.

‘Yes. Of course.’ She was a nice girl, Nell thought, kind. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ she asked Carolyn.

‘Not a thing. Sit down. Five minutes, girls.’ Carolyn vanished into the kitchen. As Maude followed Evie upstairs, Nell took a seat on the sofa, and asked Oliver something innocuous about batting order. Oliver answered readily enough and Nell began to relax as they watched the game unfold. After a few minutes, she let her attention wander, quietly inspecting the rest of the room.

The Wilsons had retained the sash windows and the exposed beams that were, she presumed original to the house. There was an open fire, unlit, and a variety of plants were crammed onto the windowsills. Most of the larger books on display were, Nell noticed, on boats and architecture. The room was a little worn, but it was comfortable, cosy, if a little cramped, as if the furniture belonged to a bigger house.

‘This is very kind of you both,’ Nell said. ‘I hope Carolyn hasn’t gone to too much trouble.’

‘Oh, she loves to cook,’ Oliver said. ‘I barely get a look in.’

The sofa was too soft, Nell could feel herself sinking into it, the conversation fading as she did so. She had the impression it was going to be a long evening.

*

Evie’s room was surprisingly small. Her desk was piled high with books. She cleared a space in the centre and opened a drawer, she pulled out a tangle of bright ribbon and began to sort through it.

‘I wanted to make sure, like – you’re OK?’ said Evie, ‘There’s been no more – knocking?’

Maude shook her head, ‘No,’ she said. ‘But it won’t happen again, right?’

‘Right.’

‘You don’t sound very sure.’ Maude looked through the window at Elder House.

‘Tyler says it wasn’t him.’

‘Oh.’ It seemed very different from this perspective, taller and more forbidding. Better to be inside it than out, she thought. ‘What was it then?’

‘I don’t know.’ Evie hesitated. ‘You weren’t – too frightened?’

‘A bit,’ said Maude, ‘maybe. But the marks in the attic will help, won’t they?’

‘How do you know that?’ Evie asked, surprised.

‘I was reading about them,’ said Maude. ‘We have lots of books in the house. They’re witch marks but that means they’re good luck.’ Her fingers practically ached to draw the flowers again.

‘I suppose so.’ Evie looked at her intently. ‘Do you believe in all that then? Witches and stuff ?’

‘Maybe,’ said Maude. She did, she thought, but not quite enough to say so out loud. She liked Evie, but she didn’t know her very well, and there was still some small part of her that feared she’d appear stupid, not cool at all.

‘Gina does. She’s got all sorts of things in her shop.’