Evie pointed to the first photocopy. ‘In 1703 a servant – Sarah Percy – is left in charge of a little girl, Sophia Ann Mortimer, who falls ill, then dies, and there seems to be some sort of suspicion that it might be Sarah’s fault.’

She pointed to the other sheets in turn. ‘In 1903, a fire on the first floor killed three children living in the house, all of them under the age of five,’ she went on. ‘In 1927 Albert Headlam was arrested for the murder of his wife, Edith, and the attempted murder of his son, William. In 1965, there was a gas leak, a Mrs Mary Winspear survived, her infant son did not. There’s a hint that it might have been a suicide attempt . . .’ She paused. ‘The thing is, these stories were retold or reported in the local press precisely because they were dramatic, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Kym said. ‘You could put together a timeline of births just as easily, with lots of happy events that no one ever bothered to report. It’s an old house, and over – what – five hundred years you might even say that this is pretty good going.’

‘But still – it’s a lot of children, isn’t it?’ said Evie, anxiously.

‘Apart from poor Mrs Headlam.’

‘Maybe she got in the way, maybe she was trying to protect her son. A mother would do that, wouldn’t she?’

‘A halfway decent one, perhaps,’ said Kym.

‘And there’s Dr Bishop’s son too,’ said Evie. ‘Everyone knows that story.’

‘So what are we saying? That there’s something going on inside the house?’ Kym picked up one of the reference books. ‘I’m sure I’ve read something about weird noises there.’ She flicked through the book, trying to find the right page. ‘Before they lived there, the Bishops, I mean. A long time before.’

‘What, like the knocking you heard?’

‘No, these were footsteps, I think. Some sort of disturbance, anyway.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Mrs Agar as she approached their table, ‘but we’ll be closing shortly. Have you got what you needed?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Kym began to tidy the books. ‘But thank you. We’ll put everything back where it belongs.’

‘Will you do me a favour?’ Mrs Agar said.

Kym paused. ‘Sure.’

‘Maybe don’t mention any of this to your gran. I wouldn’t like to upset her, not with – well, you know.’

Kym glanced nervously at Evie, who was sorting through her notes. ‘That’s OK. I wouldn’t want to upset her either.’

‘Right.’ The older woman regarded her seriously, then gave a sad smile. ‘Right, let’s get all this sorted out, shall we?’

*

‘Well,’ said Evie as they walked down the hill and back towards the river, ‘that was – unusual’ – she looked at Kym – ‘I had no idea you could be so well behaved.’

‘Oh, shut up.’