Mary went off first and I sat in the hall chair, remembering Miss Gillies’ story, and reaching down, found the loose thread and pulled at it with my fingers as she had done. I tried to imagine Miss Gillies as a child, her face unmarred, her future unspoiled. With my ear I traced Mary’s step and when I had reflected enough, I went to find her.

When we had finished playing, we raced through the corridors, uncaring for once of decorum and noise, and ended up at the kitchen table where I made tea and found cake and meat that Mrs Lenister had left. The room was warm and sweet and I felt such regret that we had to leave; I could have found a home here, amongst the decaying grandeur, and I recalled that first day as I stood atop the ridge with all the beauty of Skelthsea falling before me.

‘What now?’ I asked and Mary grinned, keen for another game of high activity, but I became aware of the lightness at my neck and realized, with dismay, that my locket was no longer there.

‘My locket. I’ve lost it.’

Mary looked at me with such alarm that I would have laughed had I not felt so near to crying, and I tried to think of all the places we had hidden and all the dusty corners in which I had crouched.

‘Mary, if I take the upstairs, would you check the ground floor?’ She nodded, running off without hesitation, and I retraced my steps, scouring the carpets with growing distress. So many rooms, so many places. Eventually I descended the stairs and found Mary coming in from the scullery corridor.

‘I cannot find it,’ I said, and she gave me an anxious look but was not quick enough to hide the nervous clutching of her fingers as she put one arm behind her back.

‘What have you there?’

She did not answer.

‘What is it?’

And slowly, she brought her hand round and opened it. There on her palm lay the locket. Jubilation was quickly followed by confusion at her apparent reluctance to show me.

‘Why didn’t you find me right away?’ I took it and peered down. Mud was engrained in the silverwork and in the chain as though it had been trodden into dirt. I looked at Mary with wonder and took in for the first time the wet tendrils of her hair and the cold flush on her skin. She had not found this in the house. I realized then that I could have as easily dropped it outside Iskar as in. But that was not where I had suggested she look.