She assumed a gossipy look. ‘Oh, it was terrible. I was only young then, just married. That poor kiddy.’ She saw the looks on our faces. ‘You didn’t know? Well, it was a house fire. The parents, and the little boy – only eight, he was – they passed away. The place was sold after that, some company looking to build houses, but it never happened. Maybe all the bad feeling.’

I was nodding like I knew all this. ‘Of course. And wasn’t there a daughter?’

Her face fell. ‘They said she might have had something to do with it. I mean, it was strange as anything, her just happening to be awake and out with the dogs when it happened. At two in the morning! Then there was talk, you know, about the mother. Very hard on the girl, she was. Always threatening to send her to boarding school, and she wasn’t allowed friends, hobbies, nothing. But I’m sure it was just an accident.’

Dr Holt said, ‘Eleanor, was that her name?’

‘I think so. Only sixteen – you wouldn’t believe a girl that age could do a thing like that, would you? Maybe there’s no truth to it. She did try to get back in to help them – laid up in hospital herself she was, for weeks, and they said she had some kind of breakdown, ended up in the funny farm, or whatever you’re meant to call it nowadays. I never thought she had anything to do with it, not after that. I hope this won’t put you off? Shame to see the place empty all these years.’

‘Of course not,’ I said, playing a character again. A hard-headed businesswoman, like somebody off The Apprentice. ‘Primary real estate is all that matters here. Thank you very much.’

She moved off, clearly half unsure whether she should have said anything, half puffed up with importance. I imagined her getting home, telling her husband they were developing the old Treadway place at last. So Nora’s family, including her little brother, had perished in a house fire, leaving only her and the dogs alive. I remembered what she’d said about dogs, that first time we met. They’re so guileless. Not like people.

Dr Holt looked as troubled as I felt.

‘What now?’ I said.

‘I . . .’

‘Coo-ee!’ The dog-walker was back before he could answer. ‘Sorry to interrupt. I just remembered – the mother didn’t die, in fact. They thought she would, but she pulled through in the end. In a nursing home, she is. The Poplars, other side of town.’ She looked between us, trusting, in a way I imagined I never would again. ‘But then maybe you know that, if you’ve bought the place?’

Eleanor

Eleanor

‘Well. I’m here. Are you going to tell me what you know?’