Creeping downstairs, she expected to encounter at least one of her parents, but something made her stop on the last tread of the staircase. Mother was on her mobile in the kitchen.

At once, Poppy’s brain kicked into gear as she silently crept along the hallway and listened. The conversation seemed to be dominated by her mother, so Poppy heard pretty much everything.

And her mother’s words sent a shiver down her spine. Thoughts of entering the kitchen went out of the window. Quietly, she retreated upstairs to the bathroom, where she drank from the bathroom tap, before she headed back to bed. But it turned out to be a long night. Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.

***

In the morning, the house was quiet. Rebecca had gone out and Alastair had headed off to the gym. Poppy rose from her bed and padded down to the kitchen to make a cheese toastie for herself and Brooke. There was so much to think about. She decided to keep what she’d heard to herself for the time being. But her sister’s plight was very much a concern. So, taking the bull by the horns, she made a decision to help Brooke herself.

Calling through the slightly ajar bedroom door, Poppy balanced the plates and cups of hot chocolate. ‘Can I talk to you?’

‘No, you can’t. Go away,’ came the voice inside the bedroom.

‘Brooke, please. I have one sister now, and as much as you are hurting, I am too. Please, let me in.’

The door slowly opened wider, and there in her pyjamas, and with her hair almost a matted mess, stood her sister.

Poppy walked in and placed the plates and cups on the chest of drawers. Then she looked around Brooke’s room and saw the chaos. Clothes were strewn across the floor, her make-up and curling tongs had been knocked off the dresser, and there was a conspicuously large soiled patch on the carpet, which looked like a red wine stain. Was Brooke into serious drinking? The whole room was filthy and stank to high heaven. Her sister needed to get a grip on her life. As Brooke clambered back into bed, Poppy opened the sash windows.

‘Right, sit up,’ ordered Poppy firmly. ‘We need to talk . . . ’ There was no response.

Poppy could see that it was going to be a lot harder than she thought to bring Brooke back into the land of the living.