‘Agnes Gowdie,’ I snap. ‘I was just feeling emotional. It’s nothing. Look, I feel better already for speaking to you about it.’ I manage to get past her and out on to the street, the scent of the flowers on the pavement hitting me as I step out. Once outside I stick on a conciliatory smile. ‘It did unsettle me a little, but I know it’s only a story. I’m OK, promise.’

‘Well, you know where I am. The offer still stands.’ Naomi rests her palm on the handle of the pram before I can walk away. ‘I’ll see you after the weekend and … take care, OK?’

I am in bed not long after Mina, and asleep pretty much straight away after Rav agrees to stay up with the baby and do the night feeds for me. I don’t dream of the staircase, of the thick, heavy air or the shadowy pictures on the wall. Instead, I dream of bones, of dried herbs twisted together, of blood splashes in a pestle and mortar, a strange smoky smell in the air. The cry of a child jolts me awake a little after three o’clock in the morning, my nightshirt stuck to my body with clammy sweat, the piercing sound ringing in my ears. I reach out for the baby only to find the cot empty. The space in the bed next to me, the sheets cold, tells me that Rav isn’t there either.

I slide out of bed, shivering as the chilly air of the cottage hits my skin. I pull the open bedroom window closed and creep downstairs to the living room where a puddle of golden light seeps out into the hallway, shadows dancing across the living-room wall ahead of me.

‘Rav? Are you down here?’ My heart does a painful double thump, as I step into the living room, suddenly afraid that it won’t be Rav sitting on the sofa but someone else, someone dressed in white. But it is Rav. Of course it is. Heat prickles under my arms and I feel stupid, over dramatic. I tiptoe into the room, noting the open laptop on the low coffee table in front of Rav as he snoozes on the sofa.

‘Rav, wake up.’ I shake him gently, and he stirs, blinking awake sleepily. ‘Come upstairs, it’s cold down here. Come to bed.’ Rav sits up and I step back, nudging into the coffee table and bringing the laptop screen to life.

Rav rubs his hand over his eyes, his gaze also drawn to the laptop screen, the glare seeming overly bright in the dimly lit room, before he looks up at me. ‘Allie. I must have fallen asleep. I was looking at …’ He gestures to the screen and I turn to look at it.