‘OK, I thought I saw someone, just a flash of white as I was standing in the garden.’ There is a faint double thump in my chest as I picture the unmistakable flash of movement through the trees, the sounds of a child’s cry on the air.

‘Maybe someone out for a walk.’ Tara shrugs, finishing the last of her tea. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it too much, if I were you. Perhaps someone got lost, or they just fancied a change on their walk, they didn’t realize that this side of the woods backed on to your garden.’

‘Perhaps.’ Should I mention the bones? Is that too weird? I mean, Tara has all but said that she doesn’t believe in any of the witchcraft stuff that Miranda is so caught up with.

‘You’re not worried it’s the Pluckley Witch, are you, come back to check on you?’ A smile hovers around Tara’s mouth.

‘No!’ I let out an awkward laugh, the lie squeezing out between my teeth. ‘I did feel as though perhaps whoever it was might have been watching the house. Maybe.’

Tara looks closely at me. ‘Watching the house? Have you told Rav?’

‘He thinks I was probably imagining things.’ Scratch. Scratching comes from the chimney and I have to concentrate on keeping my eyes on Tara. Ignore it, Allie.

‘Like I said, someone might have just been a bit lost, wandered too close to the house. If you’re worried you could call the police but I’m not sure they could do much.’

Scratch, scratch. I give in and let my gaze go the chimney breast. Tara doesn’t seem to notice the scratching and before I can ask if she can hear it, Rufus goes rigid in my arms, his face turning a deep beetroot and then an unmistakable smell fills the air.

‘Oh, blimey, Allie, I’m so sorry. I’ve changed his milk. Give him here.’ Tara is on her feet, holding out her arms and I pass the baby to her. ‘Can I change him somewhere?’

‘Of course. Top of the stairs, the door directly facing you, there’s a changing mat and table in there.’