Fleur frowned. ‘I know where they lived, just three doors away from me in Glebe Close, Cartoft, at number nine, but I can’t recall their name. I think they had two children, Cassie and Christopher. That’s how I knew what went on in their house. Christopher used to sneak out and come to our kitchen via the back gardens. He was a poor little thing, not ill-treated that I ever saw, but he was so quiet and nervous.’ She laughed. ‘He reminded me of myself when I was a kid. The things he told me about his mother and father used to make my blood run cold. He spoke of it as if it was perfectly normal. Then, as my Bob was on the verge of leaving, I cut the boy off. I will always bitterly regret that.’

‘Are they still living there?’ asked Patsy.

‘Long gone. They did a moonlight flit about the same time as my husband left. Packed up and moved out in the dead of night, apparently.’

Annie was beginning to wonder if, therapeutic as it might be, any of this was relevant.

Natalie said, ‘I hate to disappoint, but I can’t think of anything involving children, or battered wives. Even my nephew Davy is very much a loner. He’d play in the garden here all day sometimes and never brought a friend along to see the frogs or the newts in the wildlife pond.’ She went suddenly quiet.

‘What are you thinking?’ asked Patsy.

Natalie looked at her friend. ‘Do you remember Dylan, Patsy?’

Patsy thought for a moment, then smiled. ‘Oh yes. Goodness, I’d forgotten all about him.’

‘Me too,’ said Natalie thoughtfully. She looked at Annie. ‘I’m sure this is absolutely nothing to do with anything, but for a while, when Davy was about eight or nine, he had an imaginary friend. He called him Dylan.’

‘We thought he’d taken it from the rabbit in The Magic Roundabout,’ added Patsy.

‘But the odd thing was that he only ever saw Dylan here in the garden. Nowhere else at all. I didn’t think much about it at first. After all, lots of children have imaginary friends. My brother had one when we were children.’

‘Agatha Christie confessed to having imaginary friends as an adult,’ added Patsy. ‘They’re nothing to worry about.’

‘Absolutely. But I was fascinated by the fact that Dylan never came indoors. Davy met him outside and never invited him in.’ She frowned. ‘I remember once doing some work in the greenhouse and hearing Davy chatting away to himself and laughing softly. It sounded really creepy.’

‘Didn’t he start taking food out into the garden?’ asked Patsy.