‘I’ve got to go – I popped out of the meeting to call you. Leave it all to me, OK?’ The phone beeps in my hand. He’s hung up. I let out a long breath and pull the gloves back on. I’ll just have to go along with it and pretend it’s all OK. If we go somewhere close by, and only have a main – skip the starter and dessert – I can be back home within the hour. If I don’t go, then Rav might think that I am not OK, that I really do need to see the doctor – before all of this I would have jumped at the chance for the two of us to spend the evening alone. I dig the last few centimetres down into the dirt and lay the bones in first, followed by the pearls, then the witch’s ladder on top, taking care to make sure that the hair and feathers are tucked in neatly. I hold the blanket in my hands, tempted to throw that in too, before remembering that it belongs to Tara. What if she realizes she left it here, and comes back for it? I can’t exactly tell her I buried it in the garden. Instead, I fold it neatly and put it to one side, and begin to fill in the hole, watching as the grains of dirt tumble over the hair until it is buried completely. Nausea washes over me as they disappear beneath the soil, and for a fleeting moment there is a crushing heaviness, a sense of sorrow that is so acute I feel it as a pain in my chest. As I tamp over the loose soil, careful not to catch my skin on the toxic leaves of the aconite plant, I think I can feel eyes on me and I pause, sure that I hear my name whispered on the breeze. I peer into the trees from where I sit, my trowel in my hand, but there is nothing, no movement, no flash of white. Hurriedly, in a sudden spurt of panic, I get to my feet, convinced that despite the lack of movement in the trees, I am not alone. With one last glance over the border and sure that no one can tell that the earth has been disturbed, I hurry back inside, the blanket under one arm.

I hear the wailing as soon as I step into the kitchen. Raw, angry cries, desperate and ragged as if he has been crying for a long time. I forgot about him, the baby. Again. I left the baby monitor upstairs, so eager was I to get the bones and the ladder out of my house. I rush now, limping slightly, and throw the blanket onto the bed as I lean over and pull him close to me, his tiny body hot and damp with sweat.