Fiona shrugs. “We were on the list before. Callum rolled off a bed as a baby. The system is stacked against you; you wouldnae believe it unless you’ve experienced it. It took years to get through that.” Her fatalistic matter-of-fact delivery is somehow more effective than any emotional outburst might have been.

“Then of course we won’t,” Carrie says staunchly. “If you don’t want us to, of course we won’t. Will we, Ailsa?” There’s a hard steel underneath her words as she turns to look at me. She repeats herself, softer, but somehow with more emphasis. “Will we, Ailsa?” Her gray eyes are fixed on mine unrelentingly.

“Of course we won’t,” I agree reluctantly, over the memory of Jean’s words: It’s a wonder they’ve allowed her to keep that wee boy at all. I glance at Fiona, and for the briefest of moments I could swear I detect a brief flash of triumph. But her expression sags into one of heartfelt relief and the instant is gone.

“Then you should probably go now,” Carrie says to her. “So that we can say you weren’t here. If you’re okay to drive.” I look at my watch. How can it only be half past two?

“I should be fine now,” says Fiona, and she yawns, then drains her mug. “I’ll go grab my bag.” She looks across the table at me. “I’m sorry, Ailsa.” I lift a hand off the table in faint acknowledgment, though I’m not sure what she’s sorry for. Carrie follows her out of the room to help gather her things.

When she’s finally gone, Carrie and I sit in silence and drink some more tea and the names run on a loop in my head. Not Carrie, never Carrie. Nor can I fathom a motivation that would fit for Jean, the locksmith, Glen or Piotr, and Morag might hate me, but she can’t drive, so she couldn’t even get here. It’s becoming a very short list: Fiona, Ben, Ali, Jamie. Or some nutcase stranger I haven’t even met yet. “I’m sorry I lost my cool, Carrie,” I say finally.

She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. You were pretty freaked out; no wonder you were a bit . . .” Her voice seems to run out of steam.

“I’m still freaked out, if I’m honest. I don’t know how we can sleep after that.”

“Me neither. Maybe Fiona will have more luck, in a different house.”