Sara went downstairs to the kitchen before six, the grinding weight of tiredness behind her eyes. A fog lingered there, clouding her mind. Perhaps she would try to sleep later, even if it was futile. Without thought, she went to the spot in front of the old fireplace, where the Aga now stood. She peered down at the stone floor.

The red stains, returned.

She would not clean them away again. They belonged here more than she did.

As she turned away, a movement caught her eye. Through the open door to the back hall, where the past night’s darkness still remained. A vague form, like a child, watching. When she looked back, she saw nothing. Had seen nothing. Like there had been no girl in the river, no reaching scarlet ribbons.

She needed coffee to sweep these figments from her vision. After two strong cupfuls, she forced herself to eat a bowl of dry cereal as she heard Damien moving about upstairs, drawers opening and closing, the shower running. A steaming mug waited for him when he came down, along with two slices of hot toast ready for the softened butter she’d placed in a dish. As he entered the kitchen, she tugged at the cuffs of the cardigan she wore over her pyjamas, keeping the still red, still angry, tracks on her arms hidden from his sight. He did not thank her for the breakfast she’d prepared for him, did not speak until he’d finished eating, when he pulled her phone from his pocket and set it on the worktop.

“Maybe try and stay out of the spark’s way today,” he said, not looking at her.

“You mean the electrician?” she asked, retrieving her phone.

“You’ve no call to be talking to him,” he said. “Just let him get on with his work.”

“Maybe I could get out of the house for a while,” Sara said, lifting the two cups and the plate, bringing them to the sink. “If you left me the car, I could—”

“I need the car,” Damien said. He gathered his jacket and laptop case. “Look, just stay out of his way. There’s nothing you need to talk to him about.”

“I’ll go for a walk,” she said as he passed her on the way to the hall. “Actually, I thought I could go to the care home, see how that woman’s doing.”

He stopped in the doorway and turned to look at her, his eyes narrow and searching.

“You what?”

“I keep thinking about her. I don’t think she has anybody. Maybe it’d be good for her to have a visitor. It’s a couple of miles walk, I think, but I could do with the exercise.”

He became still and quiet for a moment, staring at a distant point, his mind working. Then he came back to himself, nodded, a decision made.