She sits back on her bed, hears the back door open, Maureen and Patrick’s voices downstairs. She looks back at the wall that separates her from the room next door. She has to see inside.

It turns out Maureen and Patrick have brought fish and chips home tonight.

‘We got you cod, I hope that’s OK?’ Maureen asks.

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Didn’t know if you liked mushy peas, though.’

Chloe guesses takeaways are the little treats they can now afford.

The three of them sit at the kitchen table, eating out of the chip paper. They eat in silence for a while. Maureen gets up every so often to butter bread for Patrick. He fills it with chips and folds it over in one hand.

Chloe can’t stop thinking of the room upstairs. The room they’ve never mentioned. Who needs to padlock a door from the outside unless there’s something in there you don’t want someone else to see?

‘You’re a bit quiet tonight, Chloe,’ Maureen says.

‘I’m fine,’ she says. ‘Just a bit tired from work, you know?’

‘What is it you do again?’ Maureen says. ‘I haven’t asked you much about your job.’

She tries to think of something that sounds as boring as possible so as not to invite further questioning. For some reason Hollie’s boyfriend, Phil, pops into her head.

‘Insurance,’ she says.

‘Oh right,’ Maureen replies. ‘Pass the salt, will you, Pat?’

She’s thought about asking them, of course she has. But they’ve already told her that the room is for storage. Why wouldn’t she believe them? Would a detective believe them?

‘Are you sure you’re OK, Chloe?’

‘Would you stop fussing, woman!’ Patrick says between mouthfuls. ‘She’s said she’s fine.’

‘I’m only asking, Patrick.’

He sighs and gets up from the table, putting a plate underneath his wrapped fish and chips. He heads into the living room, then comes back for the ketchup. In the silence he squirts some onto his plate. He leaves again and a moment later, the last of the evening’s news filters through into the kitchen.

‘I was only asking,’ Maureen says again, this time into her chip paper.

The two women eat for a while in silence. Chloe chews her food but there’s a question she can’t swallow. She looks to the open doorway, wanting to be sure Patrick isn’t listening.

‘There is something . . .’ Chloe says.

‘Yes?’ Maureen looks up from her food.

Chloe hesitates. ‘The room next to mine . . .’

Maureen’s eyes flicker back to her plate.

‘I just wondered why there is a padlock on it? I just wondered why it’s always kept—’

‘Patrick doesn’t like me going in there,’ she says in a whisper, looking quickly to the doorway. She is suddenly nervous in a way Chloe hasn’t seen before.

‘But why?’ Chloe says. ‘If it’s just storage . . .’