‘You might have to leave it, Mary Kate,’ Cat said as gently as she could. ‘That house is a fortress now – I can’t see the estate agent handing over the keys to you, not after all the fuss Mrs Marcus has been making. And as for the evil witch itself, you’ve obviously got no chance there. Can you not just forget about it?’

‘I can’t leave Liverpool without it,’ Mary Kate said. And with that she raced out of the bedroom and flew down the stairs.

Cat hurried after her, intercepting her in the front hall. ‘You can’t go round there on your own, you’ve no key.’

‘True, but I know the house.’ Mary Kate was already thrusting her arms into the sleeves of her coat. She shouted up the stairs for Joan, oblivious to everyone and everything. ‘Joan, get your coat!’ she yelled.

Joan didn’t have to be asked twice.

‘For goodness’ sake, let me come with you,’ said Cat as she pulled on her own coat. ‘I wouldn’t let me own kids do this and I’m not letting you go on your own.’

‘Be careful!’ shouted Mrs O’Keefe from the landing at the top of the stairs. She was holding the bannisters and stooped down, her body folding into her hand-knitted cable cardigan, to get a better view of them in the hall. Under the overhead light, her white hair cast a halo; her expression was one of great concern.

Mary Kate felt a pang of guilt, the first emotion to pierce through her deep sadness. ‘I will. I’ll be back in ten minutes. I’m not leaving my ribbon in that house a moment longer.’

The three women hurried down the avenue and stopped at the end of the Marcuses’ drive, taking in the large Victorian house. The moon shone above the chimney and flooded the driveway with a silvery light.

‘Why are the lights on?’ asked Cat.

‘Maybe the agent did it?’ said Mary Kate, no longer in such a fighting mood.

‘I doubt it. What, he comes out here each night to switch them on and returns each morning to put them off again?’

‘Let’s go around the back,’ said Mary Kate, ‘and take a look in though the kitchen window.’

The three women crept forwards, aware of every leaf that crunched and twig that snapped. In seconds they were standing to the side of the window.

‘I can hear voices,’ said Joan, her eyes wide in alarm.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ said Cat nervously. ‘Let’s go back.’

‘There’s obviously someone in there, someone in my house. I can’t leave without knowing who it is. I’m going to look,’ said Mary Kate, and before Cat could stop her, she had snuck to the edge of the window.

Both Cat and Joan held their breath as she gripped the deep sandstone windowsill and lifted herself onto her tiptoes. The light briefly illuminated her face and then she dropped back down to the ground. Her eyes glistened and her face was as white as a ghost. ‘It’s her, with Robin, the doctor from the practice she had the affair with,’ she hissed. ‘I thought William said she’d gone back to Surrey.’