Eventually, the lights in the attic were dimmed; now only a nightlight cast a faint glow at the gable window. Shortly after, the living-room light was extinguished, and after that the hall light and then the first-floor landing light as Mr deVillars made his way up to bed. At this point, Will and Marnie decided to take it in turns to sleep, an hour at a time, using the clock on Marnie’s phone as an alarm. From 11 p.m. to midnight, Will slept. He was tired and fell asleep easily, but it was painful dragging himself awake again so that Marnie could sleep the next shift. By the time he woke her, Will was so cold and hungry that he knew further rest would be impossible.

He nudged Marnie, yawning beside him.

‘Hey,’ he said, ‘let’s drive to the service station to buy some coffee and food.’

Marnie shook her head, but she passed the car keys to Will before opening the door at her side. Cold air rushed in.

‘I’m not leaving you here on your own, Marnie.’

She made a shooing motion with her hand.

‘OK,’ he said, ‘I won’t be long. Coffee and a pasty?’

‘Yes.’

Will shuffled into the driver’s seat.

‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’

‘Yes!’

* * *

Marnie watched the car disappear along the road, the wonky headlamp casting its off-kilter light. Then she turned back towards the house. Her eyes scanned the walls, from bottom to top and down again. She went forward, to the gates, then stepped inside, keeping to the lawn where her movements wouldn’t make any noise. As she came closer, she noticed a light moving in one of the attic rooms: the bathroom behind Mrs deVillars’ bedroom. From its jerky motion she guessed what she was watching was someone holding a torch.

Perhaps Zoe was using the bathroom and hadn’t wanted to disturb Camille by turning on the lamp.

Marnie crept forward through the rain. She didn’t mind being alone in the dark like this, knowing the only person she had to fear was inside the house in front of her. She could hear the call of a pair of owls, the rustling of a fox as it moved along the hedgerow. The person with the torch had left the bathroom now, but the light wasn’t extinguished as it would have been if it was Zoe and she’d gone back to bed. Instead the light was in the attic corridor, moving towards the staircase. As it passed the window, Marnie glimpsed the silhouette of a tall, hunched figure: Mr deVillars. She only saw him for a moment, then he disappeared.

She realised she’d been holding her breath.

Mr deVillars had been on the prowl.

It was probably nothing. It wasn’t as if he’d stopped by the bed to hold a pillow over Camille’s face.

Only it didn’t feel like nothing.