Naomi nodded as her sister filled her in on the latest gossip from her workplace.

Connie paused for breath as Naomi threw another log on the fire. ‘You miss it, don’t you? The cut and thrust of work.’

‘Cut and thrust?’ Naomi mocked. ‘Who talks like that?’

‘C’mon, admit it. You’re hardly a domestic goddess. You can’t make toast without burning it.’

‘Cheek.’ Naomi snorted. ‘I make very good toast, I’ll have you know. And my walnut coffee cake is to die for.’ But the words felt sour as Naomi remembered Joanne’s call.

She followed her sister’s gaze as she took in every inch of the room.

‘There was a clock on the wall.’ Connie pointed to the left. ‘And a big wing-backed chair next to the fire.’

‘Was there?’ But her laughter was hollow. She knew of every stick of furniture that had once sat here.

Connie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is that . . . is that their dresser? It looks just like the one in the photos.’

‘It might be.’ Naomi averted her gaze. The dresser had come with the house and she had searched it this morning.

‘How did Ed not know about this place? Didn’t he check it out beforehand?’

Naomi stared into the embers of the fire as the flames began to peter out. ‘He was in Washington when I bought it. I FaceTimed him during the viewing. He didn’t have a clue.’

‘Won’t he be mad when he finds out?’

‘Lots of houses have history.’

‘A family of three died here.’ Connie’s gaze shot to the narrow window as a branch tapped against the glass.

‘Disappeared,’ Naomi corrected her as she shifted position. Her legs fizzed with pins and needles as she stretched them before her.

‘They’re dead. They just haven’t been found.’ Connie gave her sister a knowing look. She cast her eyes to the ceiling as three thumps rang out. ‘What the hell is that?’ she whispered, straining to listen.

‘The water tank,’ Naomi replied, although she wasn’t entirely sure if that was true.

Rising from the sofa, she rested her flute on the low coffee table before throwing another log on the fire. It hissed and spat, the flames flickering as they curled around the chunk of wood. She felt suddenly weary, but her sister was determined to have her say.

‘Can’t you feel it?’ Connie said. ‘I’m not into ghosts, but . . .’ She shuddered. ‘This place gives me the creeps. Mind you, Wednesday Addams should fit right in.’ She nodded towards the door.

‘Don’t call her that,’ Naomi countered. ‘She’s had a rough time of it.’

‘Plu-lease,’ she said, doing her best Morgan imitation. ‘Having a rich dad to pander to your every need? Sounds tough all right. She should speak to some of the kids I deal with in Tower Hamlets, they’ll have sympathy for her.’