She found she was looking at the exposed beams that ran across the ceiling. Too low, too close, and underneath the lavender scent of the fresh bedding, that smell again. She felt the first faint stirrings of nausea – too early for that, surely – and took a breath in through her nose, held it, then exhaled slowly through her mouth. For a moment she imagined nudging Chris awake, telling him she’d changed her mind, persuading him they should pack up and leave – she pushed the thought away. She lay still and tried not to think about the smell as her stomach settled. She didn’t much like the house, but Chris and Maude seemed happy enough. She’d have to get used to it.

She closed her eyes, then opened them again.

She needed to pee.

*

She pushed open the bathroom window as far as she could and leant out. The sky was clear and according to her phone – balanced precariously on the sink – it was just a little past seven.

She wasn’t going to get back to sleep now.

She still felt off-colour, and her mouth was dry; she ran the cold tap and took a couple of sips of water, but it didn’t help much, the water tasted funny, almost metallic.

As she was using the loo, she thought she heard something, a slow muffled tread that came to a halt outside the door, and as she looked, the door handle seemed to tremble slightly, as if whoever was on the other side was touching it, thinking about trying it.

‘Just a minute,’ she said, flushing the loo, running the taps.

When she opened the door, there was no one there.

*

While she waited for the kettle to boil, Nell unlocked the kitchen door and went outside. The path led to the back of the house where it had been widened a little in an attempt at a patio. She wasn’t really sure what the owners had been thinking, it was the very opposite of inviting; damp and gloomy, more than likely in perpetual shadow.

Beyond the flagstones – cleverly matched but not as old as the ones at the front of the house, Nell guessed – behind the wheelie bin and the narrow strip of gravel that marked a boundary, the land rose abruptly to meet the foot of the cliff. Half-hidden in the long grass were the remains of a low wooden fence, collapsed and peeling, held together by brambles and nettles, forming a rough square that swept up the incline of the bank. There was no obvious way in.

She glanced back at the house; it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick look.