Belle was upstairs in her bedroom, wet-haired, having just done a few lengths up at the big house pool. Now she was stepping out of the shower, drying, slipping on a pale yellow cotton summer dress, scuffling into her sandals. Then she went to the dressing table and grabbed a comb and started pulling it through her hair. As she snatched up the dryer, something caught her eye through the window: Harlan’s Porsche was parked up outside on the gravel drive. Behind it was Nipper’s Mercedes.

Frowning, she switched on the dryer and swiped it back and forth across her hair. Then Mum nearly fell into her open doorway and stood there, her eyes meeting Belle’s in the mirror. Belle felt a hot spasm of fear bolt right through her as she saw her mum’s expression. She switched off the dryer.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘I was shouting for you,’ said Jill, sounding breathless.

‘Sorry. Hairdryer.’ Belle put it down on the dressing table. ‘What is it? You’re white as a sheet.’

‘Your father . . .’ Jill gulped, her words failing. Then she took a quick breath and managed: ‘He’s just been on the phone. He’s told me . . . Belle, we’ve got to hide.’

Someone was ringing the doorbell.

Belle was looking bewildered. ‘Hide? Hide from what?’

‘There’s no time to explain! We mustn’t answer it,’ said Jill. ‘It’s Harlan.’

That thin spasm of alarm deepened and gripped at Belle’s guts. She felt her heart thudding sickly in her chest, felt moisture start on her palms and under her arms. ‘What’s he going to do?’ she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Jill’s eyes were suddenly full of tears. ‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ she said quickly, and it was like when Belle was a little girl and her mother would try to reassure her, even though Belle always knew when there was something wrong. ‘Don’t worry honey. Your father . . .’ Her voice died.

‘Where is he? Where’s Dad?’

The doorbell was ringing, again and again and again.

‘He’s in town. Somewhere on the manor. He phoned. He sounded . . . something was wrong.’

They stood staring at each other. Now someone was hammering on the door with their fist.

Jill’s face was literally bleached with terror. ‘We haven’t got much time,’ she said. ‘Come on.’