As she followed Morgan out to the car, she worked out what she was going to say. But how did you reason with a teenager that you barely knew? Naomi adjusted her eyesight to the fading light. There were no streetlights to guide her way, and night fell quickly here. She cast her eyes to the space where she’d seen the shadow earlier. But there was nothing but deepening gloom and the gentle swish of branches moving in the wind.

Morgan was waiting at the car, swinging the backpack in her hand.

‘Is there something you want to say to me?’ Naomi said, preferring a direct approach.

‘No. Is there something you want to say to my dad?’ Morgan shot her a look of contempt.

‘What do you mean?’ Naomi said, still clinging on to the tiny hope that Morgan was playing her bluff.

‘You lied to him.’ Morgan’s words were knife-sharp. ‘He asked you if this place had history and you said no.’

‘He asked if there’d been any burglaries.’

Morgan blurted a bitter laugh. ‘And here was I thinking you were Miss Prim and Proper.’ She cast her glance over the cottage behind them. ‘Then you bring us to the Blair Witch house.’ She was still smiling, obviously basking in the power she held over Naomi. ‘He’s gonna be mightily pissed off when he finds out.’ She nodded towards the window as her father gave them a wave. He grinned cheerily, obviously pleased that they seemed to be getting along.

Naomi smiled back, her expression at odds with her words as she tried to defend herself. ‘I was planning on telling him when the time is right. When did you find out?’

‘I heard you on the phone to the estate agents. You should be careful when I’m around.’

Naomi’s forehead furrowed. What a strange thing to say. As the wind began to play with her hair, she pulled a curly strand from her face.

‘Look,’ she reasoned. ‘It’s no big deal. I fell in love with Ivy Cottage long before I knew. I figured your dad would too. I’d been meaning to tell him and I . . .’

‘You fell in love with this shit-hole?’ Still swinging her backpack, Naomi rolled her eyes. ‘Plu-ease. Credit me with more sense.’

‘Fine!’ Naomi glanced towards the cottage. Inside, she could see a small orange flicker coming from the hearth. ‘We’ll tell your dad now.’

‘No rush.’ A smile still playing on her lips, Morgan slung her backpack over her shoulder. ‘He won’t hear it from me.’ But the look she gave relayed that she wouldn’t tell her father . . . as long as Naomi didn’t piss her off.