‘My Jack worked on quite a few places in the yard actually,’ said Gina, pouring more tea. ‘He used to do a fair bit for Oliver Wilson, back when he was just starting out, before he and Carolyn – well, when she was a bit easier to get along with. He did your place, the first time round.’

‘Really? It feels very new, still,’ said Nell, grateful for the distraction Gina was so obviously providing.

‘There was a lot more work done on it a year or so ago, a new roof – everything. They took their time, too. We had workmen traipsing up and down the yard for months, their lorries blocking the street. There was a good deal of money spent, by all accounts.’ Gina fell silent.

‘Who owns it now?’

‘Oh, I did know the name – Crow? Crowne? Something like that – no one local. I’ve never laid eyes on them.’ She hesitated. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it, is there?’

‘No. They did a lovely job,’ said Nell. ‘But it just feels – it’s not very . . . welcoming.’

‘That’s the thing with these holiday places, isn’t it?’ said Gina. ‘They’re pretty enough, but it takes a family to make a home.’

‘But it’s a funny spot, don’t you think?’ Nell said. She was tempted to mention the noises she’d heard, and the sense she’d had that there had been someone in the house, to tell Gina about the shoe, and the void in the bedroom wall. ‘I mean, it’s not just me, is it?’

Gina looked at her steadily, then she seemed to come to a decision. ‘The thing is, pet, I’m probably not—’

The light dimmed as a figure appeared in the doorway, blocking it briefly before stepping inside; a girl in school uniform, dark-haired and wearing lots of eye make-up.

‘Hello, Gran,’ she said, dropping her rucksack in front of the fridge.

‘Hello, love, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.’ Gina stood, kissing the girl on her cheek. ‘Nell,’ she said, ‘this is my grand-daughter, Kym. Kym, love, this is Nell.’

‘Hello.’

‘Hi.’ The girl smiled politely, briefly.

‘Nell’s staying at Elder House, with her husband and daughter.’

‘Stepdaughter, actually,’ said Nell.

‘Oh. I didn’t know they’d let it out.’ The girl’s gaze was direct as she leant back against the kitchen counter, assessing Nell and her grubby T-shirt, her baggy jeans. ‘What’s it like?’

‘Kym,’ said Gina softly.

‘I just wondered.’ Her eyes wide, a picture of innocence. ‘I’ve never been inside,’ she said to Nell.

‘It’s – fine.’ Nell, glanced at Gina. ‘Probably a bit big for us really.’

‘I can’t remember the last time anyone lived there.’

‘Well, this is only temporary, I’m afraid.’

‘Pity, Gran could do with some new neighbours.’

‘That’s enough,’ said Gina, and Kym grinned at her.

‘Nell is Dave Galilee’s cousin. She’s here for the party.’