Connie took a long look at Fergus’ face. His eyes had taken on an evangelical glow, the sweat on his brow greasily distinguishable from the rain splashing there. He was on fire. His chest was puffed out, chin up. The pitiable broken figure – as dangerous as he had been when Connie had first laid eyes on him – had vanished. In his place was a maniac, glowing with the prize that lay within his perceived reach. She swallowed her fear. No time for that now.

Before stepping into the wooden box, already pooled with muddy water, she kicked off her trainers, emptied the pockets of her jeans and finally shed her coat. Two adults in the space meant no room for any additional bulk.

Meggy was huddled on the ground, rocking, crying.

‘Please don’t get in,’ she whined.

‘Do what you’re told. Every word,’ Connie snapped at her. ‘Quickly.’

Meggy flashed a look at her that was venomous, her pain inflamed by Connie’s cruelty, but the girl seemed to wake up.

Keeping her eyes on Elspeth as she climbed in, Connie saw the fractional rise and fall of her chest and knew she was doing the right thing to keep the woman and girl safe. She allowed Fergus/Harris to climb in next to her, his body pressed tight against hers, his rotten breath infiltrating her air space. She lay on her right-hand side, he on his left, their hair swirling in the half-inch of water, their faces awash with rain, their clothes – had she been able to note their colour – shades of brown, the earth already in the process of claiming them.

‘Put the lid back on the coffin. I want to hear you jump on it, then kick the mud on top of it again. It has to be sealed tight, do you hear?’ Fergus instructed.

Meggy remained where she was, glaring.

‘If you don’t, I’m coming back out to get you. It’ll be you in here, drowning, suffocating. You’ll die like she died. You want me to put you back in this coffin?’ he growled.

Meggy glanced at Elspeth, looked to Connie, who gave a small silent nod. The girl crawled towards the open grave, hauling the coffin lid towards them, biting her trembling lip as she went.

Connie took a long last look at the furious sky, already crying for her. It was dark, but not as dark as things were about to get. She became aware of everything. The chill of the water beneath her, the grit of the earth seeping into her clothes, the closeness of Fergus’ hands to her body, the small sounds of Meggy’s exhausted breaths as she pulled the coffin lid in place. The disappearing light, pale grey, mid grey, dark grey, as wood scraped across wood.

And the world disappeared.