‘Evie told me.’ Kym put a finger into the bowl of sea glass by the sink, swirling the water, watching the glass shimmer as it caught the light. ‘Then I told my gran, you know how it goes.’ She looked at Nell. ‘Are you OK?’ she said. ‘Only Evie said – it all sounded a bit confused.’

‘There was a problem with the lights,’ said Nell, ‘and I think . . .’ She hesitated. ‘It was just a silly accident. I should have been more careful.’ She found a glass vase and rinsed it out. ‘Are you really sure?’ She went on. ‘About Maude? You don’t have anything else to do? And you – don’t mind?’

Kym wiped her fingers on her T-shirt and smiled at Nell. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I don’t mind at all.’

*

It sounded worse when she told Gina what had happened, mad, even.

‘If I thought there was someone hanging around here,’ Gina said as she poured out a cup of chamomile tea, ‘I would call the police. I would definitely not go sneaking around upstairs looking for them.’

‘There was no one there.’

‘What does your Chris reckon to it?’

‘He doesn’t know, about the footsteps, I mean. Maude was there, when I last spoke to him. She’s always there – I didn’t want to worry her any more than she already is.’

‘But you definitely heard something.’

‘Yes. I think so.’ Nell tried to smile. ‘At the time I thought – yes.’

‘Then you fell.’

‘I – yes . . . This is very good of you, listening to me going on.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ said Gina. ‘Who else would listen? Carolyn?’

‘Well actually, she was incredibly kind,’ said Nell. ‘With Maude and everything.’

‘Couldn’t bear to miss out, more like,’ said Gina.

‘Still, I appreciate it.’ It was very comforting in Gina’s kitchen, and Nell felt oddly homesick. If she’d handled the phone call with Chris better, they might be on their way back now, or he would be on his way back to them. ‘It’s like . . .’ she said, ‘it’s like we – I – can’t get anything right. Ever since I pulled that shoe out of the wall everything has – gone wrong. The business, Maude, me.’

‘We all feel that way sometimes – you’ve had a bit of bad luck, that’s all.’

‘I suppose so.’ Nell leant forward, reaching for a biscuit, wincing.

‘And what’s wrong with you?’

‘Nothing. Bruises.’

‘Let me see.’

Feeling slightly foolish, Nell stood, raising her T-shirt and pulling at the waistband of her jeans.

Gina’s expression changed, something in it softened. ‘Good Lord,’ she said, probing the bruising gently. ‘You’ll need to put something on this – hang on.’

She opened a cupboard, and after a brief search, produced a small green jar. She unscrewed the lid, sniffing at it as if checking the contents.

‘What’s that?’

‘Arnica, for the bruising.’ Gina began to dab the ointment on her skin, raising goosebumps.

‘Ow.’