Belle followed Jill out onto the landing and into the master suite, which was built into the eaves of the house so that at each side of the room there was a triangular crawl space hidden away behind the walls. There was a cupboard door set into the lowest wall, intended but never used for storage. The bats had spread out from the loft long ago, and there was all this bollocks about them being a protected species now – and anyway Terry kind of liked the bats, he always said good luck to the little bastards who shot out from under a gap in the tiles at night and whizzed around the garden. Sometimes, Terry liked to stand out there and watch them. Not Jill – the bats gave her the willies and she always thought they were going to get caught in her hair.

‘They got sonar,’ Terry would tell her. ‘They ain’t going anywhere near you, babes.’

‘Go on, get in,’ said Jill, nudging Belle toward the cupboard.

‘But they’ll know we’re home – won’t they?’ asked Belle, hesitating. She didn’t like the thought of going in with the bats, not this close. Not at all.

Downstairs, someone was kicking the door. They could hear male voices.

‘Our cars are locked up in the garage. They’ll think we’ve walked down to the village.’

‘Mum, I don’t . . .’

‘Get in!’ Jill’s eyes were frantic as she hissed the command. She was pushing Belle inside, hurrying her. ‘Hurry the fuck up, Belle.’

Belle did as she was told and moved further along the crawl space so Jill could follow too. She pulled the door closed. Inside, the space was boarded so you weren’t balancing on the beams. Feeling claustrophobic, Belle took a breath and tried to stay calm. Her breath was whistling in and out of her mouth and she could feel cobwebs brushing against her face as she went to the far end, tucked herself away in the corner under the roof beams, behind the chimney. Oh Jesus. Spiders. The big black ones that came out in October and scuttled across the floor, terrifying the bejesus out of you. She hated the bloody things.

Close by her head she heard the rustling of papery wings.

The bats.

There was a crack of daylight coming in under the tiles – the bats’ exit hole. Dimly Belle could see them, moving restlessly, disturbed by her being in here, near to them. Their bright beady eyes and folded wings made her think of every vampire movie she had ever sat through, laughing her head off at the daftness of the idea. The undead! What a bloody joke. The smell in here was burning the end of her nose. Guano, didn’t they call bat shit that? Or was that birds?