‘Yes, of course I do, but honestly, Mum, this doesn’t feel that great.’ I feel sulky, like I did as a teenager when she disagreed with me. ‘At least if we had stayed in Ebbsfleet none of this would ever have happened.’

‘And what if Rav had refused to stay? If he had said he would come here alone and leave you? Would that be better?’ She stalks to the open door and lights a cigarette. ‘Remember, Alys, I brought you up alone after your father left. I wouldn’t go with him when he wanted to go back to France, I stayed in England for you. Believe me, it is harder to be alone.’

And then the minute I showed you I could stand on my own two feet, you hot-footed it right back to Paris anyway, I think, a bitter worm turning in my stomach. It feels odd to hear her defending Rav, when usually she disagrees with everything he says. ‘If I had stayed in the flat, no, things wouldn’t have been ideal, but at least I wouldn’t have been dealing with stuff like this.’ I throw my hand out towards the bones, the twined hair. ‘Witchcraft, Mum. Someone has been watching the house. I hear things, see things and then they vanish, like they were never there. I feel as though something has cursed me.’

‘Something?’ Blue smoke hazes around her perfectly bobbed hair. ‘Allie, there is no something. Don’t you think it makes more sense that this is the work of someone?’

‘Yes,’ I say, ‘of course it’s the work of someone, not something. That’s what I meant.’ I just don’t know if that someone is a woman accused of terrible things four hundred years ago.

‘Then you need to figure out who it is.’ My mother gives one of her Gallic shrugs, as if finding out who is responsible will be easy.

‘I think I should show this witch’s ladder to Miranda,’ I say carefully, hoping that she’ll give me something to go on this time. ‘She might be able to tell me what it’s for, what I should do with it.’ Quickly, before I can change my mind, I snap a photo of it, laid out on the table, and check the image, suddenly irrationally sure that there will be a blank space in its place.

A wail comes from upstairs and my mother glances at her watch. ‘Well yes, maybe that’s where you start. Be careful who you trust, Alys.’ Another wail comes and then there is a thud. Mina.