‘Did I miss something?’ I say with a tired laugh. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Your friend Naomi offered Mina an ice cream, so I am taking Mina for an ice cream,’ Rav’s mother says briskly. ‘I am taking the baby too, so you go upstairs now and go to bed.’ She peers closely at me, her face only inches from mine. I can feel her breath on my cheek, smell the scent of the Indian sweets she eats. ‘Rav is right, you are very, very tired.’

And she is right, too. I am far too tired to argue.

Chapter Seven

The house is quiet once Avó has bustled out with the children, and I try not to let her forceful interference grate too much, telling myself she’s only trying to help. I close the door behind them, smiling and waving, and head back towards the kitchen. Passing the mirror, I pause, eyeing my reflection closely. Naomi is right, I do look tired. I peer closely, tugging at the skin beneath my eyes, a flicker in the mirror drawing my gaze away from myself to the hall behind me. Movement. I thought for a moment there was movement in the mirror, to one side of my own reflection, but when I turn to check, the area behind me is empty and silent. Of course, it is, I think. You’re alone in the house. There’s no one else here. My thoughts return to Naomi’s comments about The Colonel and the Pluckley Witch. It’s just superstitious nonsense but it still makes my skin prickle to think about it. If I go outside now, I reason, the fresh air will make sure I sleep tonight.