Liz just smiled, and shotgun or not, Bert Annable’s presence beside her or no, Ellie wanted nothing more in that moment than to turn and get out. Liz wasn’t stupid. There was something else here. Madness, maybe. Or – that conviction again – Liz Harper knew something Ellie didn’t.

Noel came back, went into the front room and helped Dave Chapple to the door. Dave was wrapped in a blanket, and when Noel hoicked him up on his shoulder Ellie caught a glimpse of the poor sod’s underwear and understood why; there were some stains Noel would rather not have to clean out of his coat this evening.

Noel slipped out through the door, and then it was just Ellie, Bert and the Harpers again. “We done?” said Bert Annable.

“Yup,” said Ellie. “You go first.”

“Ellie –”

“Bert, I’ll be fine. Just go on.”

“All right.”

Bert went out into the yard. Now Ellie was alone with her gun pushed into Liz’s stomach, with Liz still grinning at her. Up on the stairs, Frank was stealing glances at his shotgun. Over Liz’s shoulder, she saw Paul sidle sideways, too. “Stay where you are, Paul,” she said. “What about Joda and Barbara, Liz? What about Grant and Sally? Where are they?”

“Won’t find them here,” said Liz. “Don’t you be trying to pin that on us, Ellie. That wasn’t any of our doing.”

“Whose, then?”

Liz didn’t answer, just kept on grinning. “It’s just you now, Ellie,” she said. “Starting to get a bit worried?”

She’d pushed Liz too far back into the hall; now when Ellie backed towards the door, she’d be far enough from her that Frank or Paul might chance a shot. Especially if Liz dived for the ground or the front room. She could grab Liz’s sweater, pull the other woman after her – but that would mean moving closer to Liz, and she didn’t want to do that either. She didn’t like that grin. She didn’t like anything about Liz Harper or Barrowman Farm at the best of times, but that grin was in a class of its own.

So Ellie backed away, keeping her finger on the trigger and hoping that neither Frank nor Paul were stupid enough to risk the shotgun going off if they fired at her. But she could already see Frank reaching down for his gun. And Liz was moving too, advancing on her, still with that bloody smile in place.

“Won’t be seeing you again, Constable Cheetham,” she said, in a sing-song voice. “Think we’re bad? You’ve no idea what’s coming for you.”