‘Hi, Mum.’ Emily rushed past her and up the stairs, her feet making hollow thuds on each tread. Louisa hadn’t even opened her mouth in greeting before she heard the bang of her bedroom door closing. She shook her head. At least she wasn’t giving her any attitude. Louisa looked to the wall clock as she walked into the kitchen. She frowned, and put her fingertips to her throbbing temples. Five-thirty. She hadn’t realised she’d left it so late to visit Tiff. She was sure she’d left the house at three, latest. She couldn’t have been over two hours.

Lifting the clock from its hook on the wall, Louisa checked the battery. Then she took her mobile and checked that. The clock was right. She must’ve been mistaken. So that meant Brian should be home any minute too.

Her breathing shallowed. If she’d been at Tiff’s later than she’d assumed, it really could have been Brian who Tiff had been talking to in the back garden.

No. His car wasn’t there – she’d have seen it.

Don’t go jumping to conclusions again.

As if on cue, the door opened and Brian came in, his face grey, drained.

‘Hi, everyone! Where are my favourite girls?’

Louisa heard him, but didn’t move. Was the timing just coincidental?

‘You’ve got a parcel,’ she called from her position leaning against the worktop.

‘Ah-ha! It’s here.’

Louisa heard the tearing of tape and the box being ripped open. It wasn’t a present for her then otherwise he’d have taken it somewhere out of Louisa’s sight before opening it. She strolled out to the hallway. He didn’t shout to go away, not to look. It was clearly not for her.

‘What is it?’ she asked, trying to keep the annoyance from her tone.

Brian didn’t answer; he was too busy pulling out the internal packaging material. Then he stood back and held it up. ‘How cool is this?’ He sounded like a child who’d been given a new toy.

‘What on earth did you order that for?’ Louisa screwed her face up at the small, helicopter-like contraption Brian was proudly holding.

‘Oh, I didn’t order it. I’d never have thought of getting one …’

‘It had your name on the label – has there been a mix-up?’

‘Nope. No mix-up. It’s a gift.’

‘Riiiight. From who, exactly?’

‘From Oliver.’ And Brian brushed past her and walked through the kitchen to the back door. His new, shiny plaything in his hands. Louisa could think of no reason Oliver would give Brian a bloody gift at all. Let alone this.

Louisa followed Brian outside.

Five minutes later, the dark grey metal construction was airborne.

The drone buzzed above Louisa’s head.