“Izzy asked me to do the school run today,” she tells him. “Where’s everyone?”

Eric is soaking wet. His eyes scan the garden beyond her; something is wrong. He hasn’t heard a word she’s said.

“Are you okay, Eric?”

“We can’t find Ash.” His eyes are wild. “We’ve looked everywhere.”

“He won’t be far.” She’s never seen him like this before, she puts a hand on his sleeve. “What can I do to help?”

“Get in out of the rain, Melly. Eve’s inside.” He disappears through the door into the garden.

Eve is wearing a man’s shirt, she is hunting through a tall cupboard, strewing thick coats on the floor. The dog rolls luxuriously in piles of heavy tweed and cashmere.

“Let me help you.”

“Ash hid in here recently; they were playing a game and he was frightened.” Eve pulls out a couple of Barbour jackets; her face is white, her voice trembling. The tracks of tears shine on her cheeks. “Martin rang when I didn’t turn up for the school run; he said Ash has to be hiding somewhere.”

Close up Eve smells faintly of stale alcohol. Her eyes are bloodshot and bright with fear.

“I’m sure Martin’s right.” Melissa tries to speak calmly. “Izzy used to do this on purpose to worry me, it drove me frantic.”

“He’s only three, Melly, he won’t be doing anything on purpose.” Eve wipes her eyes on her cuff with a savage gesture, smudging mascara.

Even at three Izzy knew how to make her suffer, but Melissa doesn’t mention that. “He can’t be far, he’s not old enough to go very far.”

“We’ve phoned the police. Can you ask Paul if he saw anything before he left? And check on the girls, they’ll be worried.” Eve disappears outside.

Paul doesn’t pick up so she texts instead then walks through the kitchen into the hall. The house is quiet; her footsteps ring on the stone. She opens a door into a red-walled room with a large table, oil paintings, and the musty smell of ancient meals. There’s a chintzy sofa and matching chairs in the next room, a dusty-looking carpet. It seems odd that she’s never seen these rooms before. This part of the house feels neglected.

“Izzy?” Her voice sounds thin in the cavernous hall. “Poppy? Sorrel?”

There is no reply, only the tick of an unseen clock as it scrapes the hour and the stale scent of flowers left in water too long. Unease deepens. Eve’s house has always seemed a sunny place filled with laughter, it’s as though she’s wandered into someone else’s home by mistake. Melissa walks farther into the hall toward the stairs, calling for her daughter, for Eve’s daughters. Her voice echoes back to her, but no one answers. This seems to be a house that swallows children. As she puts a foot on the first step, she catches a faint rhythmic creaking coming from a door that’s half open, down a corridor she hadn’t noticed at the back of the hall. When she pushes the door wider, the interior is indistinct, the curtains pulled halfway across, crooked as if someone tried to darken the room in a hurry. As her eyes become accustomed to the gloom, she sees Izzy astride a dapple-gray rocking horse, tilting backward and forward slowly. Sorrel and Poppy are squashed together in a large armchair sharing Izzy’s laptop. Their faces are pale in the reflected light. Poppy is half dressed, Sorrel still in her pajamas. She has never seen Eve’s children even glance at a screen before. Izzy spends all her time on her cell phone or laptop; staring at the children’s faces, she’s unsure now which is the more normal behavior. Charley and Blake aren’t with them, there is a brief pulse of worry until she remembers that they didn’t stay over last night.