Ten minutes and there was enough of a hole in the door that he could step through, crawling on his hands and knees between two mattresses lying on the floor of the hallway and another bent in two, tense against the walls.

His brain was pulsating, and red lights were flickering on the inside of his eyes. Breathing through a wave of nausea, he entered the lounge.

The view from the window was magnificent. Walking to the wall, he looked out at the blue sky and across the green fields, relaxing in the warmth of the sun on his face as it filtered through the glass. Fergus felt joy. It had been so long since he had been peaceful. He gave a contented sigh and studied the furniture. It was a little frayed but designed for comfort. The only thing ruining the perfect room was an overturned rug and a pile of floorboards – two whole, one splintered in the corner. None of it made sense. He’d built this sanctuary, this idyll, and someone had ruined it with mess and disorder.

Fergus frowned. He was feeling anxious again. All he wanted to do was go back to the window and stare out into the countryside beyond, but now he had to clear up. He walked towards the hole in the floor, and the boards beneath his feet crackled and squeaked. Whoever had done this had weakened the entire area. He sat at the edge of the opening and looked down. The area below was dark, the only light spilling in from the hallway beyond. The light bulb must have blown. And there below him were a woman and a girl tied up.

‘You’re not Emily,’ he said to Meggy. ‘Emily went away. Where did she go? There’s still Angela, though. I love Angela. She’s my wife.’ He stroked the wedding ring on his left hand and grinned at the memory of the ceremony. ‘Maybe Emily made this hole.’

Leaning over, he stared into the pitch-black between the two floors. From deep inside the cavity there came a scrabbling, scraping, rustling. Fergus reached inside to find the cause.

‘Do I have mice?’ he asked. ‘Come on, little mouse. I won’t hurt you.’ His fingers felt a long, thin limb. Fergus yanked. ‘Got you!’

The fleshless femur appeared from the cavity and landed on Fergus’ lap. He stroked its length.

‘Who were you?’ he asked the bone. ‘Were you kind to me?’ He held it next to his mouth. ‘I’m dead, too,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t be scared. You’re not alone any more.’ Standing up, he took the bone in both hands and held it up to show the sun that streamed through the window. ‘This is it. This is what I forgot. We should go. All of us together.’