There had been a long and tedious telling off back at school. Nell had a sudden piercingly clear memory of everyone waiting in the corridor outside the headteacher’s office, forbidden to speak to each other, Carrie Hudson all alone at the end of the line.

‘Did you believe in all that?’ asked Maude. ‘Magic and stuff.

Do you believe in it now?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Carolyn smiled across the table, indulgently. ‘But when I was a girl, about your age, I knew a witch.’

‘What, for real?’ Maude sounded suspicious.

‘Definitely. My auntie Ida, only she wasn’t my real aunt, people just called her that.’

Maude looked around the table, waiting for something, confirmation, reassurance.

‘Ida Green?’ said Nell, and then to Maude. ‘She’s in those photos I showed you.’

‘No way. What did she do then? If she was a witch?’

‘Maude. Slow down a bit,’ said Nell.

‘Maybe that’s a story for another time,’ said Carolyn.

‘The wine not to your taste?’ Oliver asked, gesturing towards Nell’s untouched glass. ‘I can open a bottle of red, if you prefer.’

‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ said Nell. ‘I’m just not a very big drinker, these days.’ Carolyn cast her a shrewd, assessing glance.

Maude picked up her fork. ‘I was only asking,’ she said.

‘Actually,’ said Nell, standing. ‘If I could just use your bath-room?’

‘Up the stairs and turn right,’ said Carolyn. ‘You can’t miss it.’

*

The stairwell was lined with photographs, and on the first floor the door to Carolyn and Oliver’s room stood ajar and Nell hesitated by the door.

A couple of discarded dresses lay across the bed, but other-wise the room was tidy, the walls painted a solid peacock blue and lights soft and discreet. There was a bookcase to one side of the bed, crammed with faded paperbacks, and it was tempting to slip inside, as some sort of obscure payback for the discovery of the shoe in the wall, to examine the shelves, to pull one free, to see what it was that Carolyn read at night, what it was that fed her imagination.

Ridiculous.

*

‘Coffee?’

‘Do you have decaf?’

‘Actually, I think we might be out. Sorry.’

‘Oh. Well, yes, regular is fine.’ She knew it wasn’t a good idea, and she rarely drank caffeine so late in the evening, but the house seemed a long way away, the yard steps ridiculously steep. ‘Thanks.’ She’d been sensible for weeks, half a cup wouldn’t hurt.

‘Ollie?’

‘Please.’

‘Let me help.’ Nell stood up, anything to get away from the table, move around a little. She gathered up their empty glasses, putting them next to the sink. Carolyn’s kitchen windows offered a view of Elder House; it seemed to overshadow the little cottage.

‘How are you feeling?’ asked Carolyn. ‘Only I noticed – you didn’t seem to eat very much . . .’