“Hi.” Her voice sounds overly cheerful, a little flimsy.

Izzy stares at her mother. Poppy glances up then back at the screen, frowning. Sorrel wriggles from the seat and runs to Melissa. “When’s Ash coming back?”

Melissa takes her hand; the small fingers are icy. This room is unheated; Eve must have no idea the children play in here. Ash will be colder than this if he’s outside in the rain, dangerously cold. The body temperature in children falls much faster than in adults.

“Oh, it won’t be long now,” she says cheerfully. “Shall we get you ready to go to school?”

Sorrel runs back and squeezes into the chair beside her sister again. Melissa gazes at them helplessly; they look so small in that chair, so vulnerable. She tries once more, “By the time you come home, Ash will be here and everything will be all right again. Shall we get you dressed, sweetheart?”

A violent movement catches her eye through the gap in the curtains, a wild animal motion. She yanks aside the velvet-edged drape. This room faces directly onto the paddock; from here she can see the donkeys cantering around the field. Something has spooked them. She struggles to open the heavy sash, raising it by a few inches; the wind and rain blow in, bringing with them the high-pitched braying of the animals as they pound the enclosure. Beyond them, she can make out Igor and Eric at the edge of the wood. Eve is in the meadow walking through tall grass, head bent as she searches the ground. She looks smaller than usual, her hair wet and close to her skull. No one seems to have noticed the donkeys’ behavior; their long ears are flat to their heads as they run, keeping pace with one another. She looks around their field in case there’s a plastic bag caught on a branch or a stray umbrella tossed in by the wind, but everything looks the same as it always does: the trees at one side, the wildlife pond, the animal shelter, the gate. The pond. Her glance flicks back, it’s too far to see more than the gleam of water from here. They were so lucky to have that pond on their land, Eric told her once, perfect for animals, being spring fed, cold, and very deep. Wild geese visit in winter; moorhens live at the edges. It’s quite safe, he’d added, the paddock has a high fence, the gate’s always kept locked. She looks up. A few birds are circling in the air above the pool as though displaced, waterbirds of some kind, she was never good at birds’ names. Melissa lets go of the curtain and begins to run, through the hall, out the kitchen door, and across the veranda, meeting Eve jogging back. Eve is soaked through, her face a mask of mud and tears.

“Are the girls okay?” Then she grabs Melissa’s hand. “What is it, Melly? What have you seen?”

“The pond.” Melissa can hardly get her words out. “Have you checked it?”