The kitchen had been full of chatter as they had brought their bathing suits and planned to go down to the pond a bit later.

They all loved it when Mrs W invited them inside. Not only did she make them treats, but she was cool too, sitting down with them and showing an interest. Talking to them as if they were adults, not children, and telling them the best scary stories. Like to watch out for the big fish with razor teeth that lived in the pond – they had laughed at that one, knowing it wasn’t true, though Hannah knew they had all been a bit apprehensive when first going for a swim. Then there was Mr Bennett, the former owner of the farm who had died after falling down the cellar stairs. They fell silent as she told them how, because he lived alone, no one had realised he was dead. By the time his corpse was found, maggots and rats had been feasting on him. All of them (apart from Jill and Miles) remembered Mr Bennett. He had always been crotchety with them if he caught them on his land, threatening and chasing them.

When Lauren told Mrs W this, saying that Mr Bennett hadn’t been nice like her, the woman nodded, her expression grave. ‘That is why I tell Bill to keep out of the cellar. We can hear Mr Bennett down there sometimes, yelling and banging on the door. He didn’t like children and I don’t want him hurting my precious boy.’ She paused, staring round the table at their wide-eyed faces. ‘Of course, rumour has it he only punishes naughty children.’

Hannah glanced at the cellar door. Was he down there now, listening to them? He had hated them all when he was alive. What would he think about them being in his house? She resolved to never go down into the cellar.

When the glass smashed, everyone stopped talking and looked at Bill, who had dropped it while clearing the table.

His eyes went wide as he looked at his mother. ‘I’m s-sorry. It was an accident.’

Was Hannah imagining it or was he scared of his mother’s reaction?

She looked to Mrs W and for the briefest moment saw something akin to anger pass over her face, but then she was smiling and shrugging the incident off, and Hannah was wondering if she had imagined it.

‘What are you like, Butter Fingers Bill,’ she laughed. ‘How did I manage to have such a klutz of a son.’

While Bill stood rooted to the spot, Hannah got up from the table with the intention of helping to clear up the rest of the table. Mrs W was quick to stop her.

‘Don’t you worry about that, my lovely. You kids go and enjoy your swim. I will take care of everything here.’