Amber is in the playroom with the boys. She’s not happy with the added pressure and I don’t blame her but until we know that the woman Cian saw looking in the window is not the woman from the back garden, that’s the way it has to be.

It’s possible it was simply someone canvassing at the door, didn’t get an answer and snooped in the window to see if anyone was home. I might not have heard the doorbell if I was being assaulted by a duvet cover at the time, especially with the radio on.

After reinforcing his inadequate dinner with two slices of bread and cheese, Tom unfolds the sheet of paper that sits like an unplayed deck of cards on the windowsill.

‘I’ll give it a go,’ he says, stretching his back like he’s preparing to go to battle.

‘I’ll wait here.’

Scraping the lettuce from Tom’s plate my nerves start to get the better of me again. Pain pierces through my forehead. Reaching for the paracetamol on top of the shelf in front of me, I hear Amber walk into the room.

‘Well, that’s me off duty,’ she says. ‘Can I go out now?’ Her tone is sarcastic, milking the situation while implying this is all my fault. She doesn’t use that tone with her father.

‘Of course you can, but remember what I told you to keep your phone with you at all times and don’t talk to any strangers.’

‘Jesus, Ma, you’re watching too many movies. I’ll be okay.’

I hope she’s right. I know I’m probably being over-cautious but I don’t care. It’s better than being under-cautious.

‘Nine thirty!’ I shout after her but she’s already gone out the door.

The boys’ laughter sounds out of place when I approach the playroom. Thankfully they are totally unaware of our crumbling world that is supposed to be protecting them. Tom is sitting on the floor, holding Aaron up in the air when I walk in.

‘Anything?’ I say.

‘Nope.’ Putting Aaron down on the rug, Tom stands up taking the sheet of paper with him and walks over to me. In a low voice he says. ‘He says it’s not the woman, that she was real and this is only a drawing.’

‘But did you ask him if the woman looked like that?’

‘Yes, but he shook his head. He’s not making any connection. Maybe it wasn’t her, Sal.’

My tension eases. Great, it wasn’t her it was just a coincidence. I guess it was just some random caller.

‘I think it’s time for bed.’

‘C’mon, bedtime.’ Tom moves towards the boys, dropping the sheet of paper on the floor.

‘Two more minutes,’ Cian says.

‘No. Bedtime.’