Trying not to think about spiders, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, and flicked on the flashlight app. The boxes, old books, decorations and their Christmas lights were stacked in the far corner, exactly where they should be. But there was something else, something wrong. She let the torch play over the walls, which were – different.

She moved closer. Offcuts of wood, that had been her first thought. Then, panels perhaps, or discarded cupboard doors, and smaller odd shapes, splintered and stacked against the far wall. The wall – she stopped and tried to orient herself – the wall that faced the cliff. But one of the doors appeared to have a chain suspended across it, and the larger shapes were familiar. They were free of the dust that coated everything else up here Evie noticed as she reached out and tilted one of the pieces of wood back – it was a mirror.

Close to a dozen of them; the glass shattered and in some cases broken clumsily into large, dangerous-looking shards and placed quite deliberately along the far wall, mirrored sides facing out, towards the cliff, towards Elder House.

And there in the corner, her mother’s Moses basket, a smear of blood on the handle.

She edged closer.

There was something in it.

Chapter 26

26

Nell opened her eyes, the broken nights had finally caught up with her, and she had fallen asleep. She’d had the sense to put the laptop to one side, though. She picked it up and the blank screen sprang to life.

A Tragic Loss.

A headline above a formal family portrait. The story she’d seen on the ghost walk video had been true, more or less.

The poor man, his poor wife.

She closed the computer and put it on the coffee table before standing slowly, her bruised back and ribs complaining. She tried the light switch in the hall, flicking it up and down, but the stairs remained dark. They must have tripped a fuse, again.

She went to the kitchen, opened the cupboard over the sink and found the right fuse; the hall light came on.

A loose connection perhaps. Nell tried the switch by the door again, and it seemed to be fine. A power cut, then, or a surge, or – something.

‘Maude? Maudie?’ She walked upstairs, pausing halfway. ‘Are you awake?’

Slow, muted footsteps, and then a muffled response. ‘What?’ She had the impression Maude had got as far as the hatch and was kneeling down, shouting through it.

‘I’m going to make dinner.’

‘And?’

‘I’ll call you when it’s ready, shall I?’

‘Whatever.’

Nell turned and went back down into the kitchen. The news about Chris could wait, she decided. If Maude couldn’t be bothered to come down, to have a face-to-face conversation, that was her problem. She was done with arguments and confrontation; maybe the shoe would just turn up, like her phone had.