‘There’s no one here,’ I whisper under my breath, ignoring the chill that has followed me in. Tiny spots of sunlight are all that can fight their way through the thick boughs above me, and the sweat that trickled down my spine as I crouched over the border makes my T-shirt cling to my back like a cold, sticky hand. I let out a laugh, a rush of breath that loosens the tightness in my chest. ‘There’s no one here. It’s just a wood, nothing else.’ I let myself step further in, running my hand over the gnarled bark of an oak tree, spotting the bent, crumpled stems of bluebells that would have just finished blooming. Now I have been brave enough to set foot inside the border of trees that mark the start of the wood I feel silly, the cold, sinister sensation fading to leave me feeling almost drained. There is nothing to be afraid of, no flash of white or disturbed earth. I step further in, with one quick glance back towards the house, enjoying the relief that comes from the cool, earthy air on my face after the heat of the sun in the garden. A bird, a crow or magpie maybe, caws somewhere deep in the trees and I suppress a shiver, laughing at myself, before something catches my eye and the laugh dies in my throat.

A flash of white. I blink, my tongue sliding out to lick at my suddenly dry lips, before I see it again, a flash of white moving at speed through the trees away from me. As if whoever it is was watching me and fled before I could realize.

‘Hey!’ Without thinking, I start to run towards the white, a shambling slow run, feeling hefty and unfit as I stumble over twigs on the uneven path, but it’s no use – I can’t keep up and the flash of white disappears from view. Stopping, I bend at the waist trying to suck in enough oxygen to soothe my burning lungs, rasping and gulping. Tears spring to my eyes and I swallow hard as I straighten up, trying not to be sick. My stomach muscles hurt, my legs hurt – everything hurts – and I place one hand on my chest, achingly aware that the baby will need to feed soon. I wait for a few minutes, despite my legs wanting to turn back towards the house, to the sunshine and hopefully Avó and the children wondering where I am, but I force myself to wait, to make sure that I am entirely alone before I start to walk back. I am almost at the end of the trees, my eyes fixed on the house ahead when I stumble over a partially buried tree root, my hands flying out to brace my fall.