‘I’m ready.’ I help Mina onto the buggy board, making sure her hands are holding tightly to the handle of the pram and start walking. ‘You shouldn’t stand near that tree, it’s poisonous you know.’

‘Tree of Death.’ Mum rolls her eyes. ‘I didn’t touch it, don’t worry so much.’ She falls into step beside me and we walk in silence towards the outskirts of the village. I don’t have much to say, anxiety squeezing my stomach as I wonder what Mrs Sparks will tell me about the house, if anything at all. It’s only a short walk to her house and when we reach it, I realize I have walked past many times on the way to take Mina to the park.

‘Here,’ I say. ‘This is it.’ We stop, and I take a moment to catch my breath. ‘OK. Let’s knock on the door and see what she has to say.’ I lift the knocker and drop it twice, the thud sounding abruptly loud in the quiet of the street. A few moments later the door swings open, and a woman with a lanyard around her neck appears.

‘Allie Harper? Mrs Sparks is expecting you.’ She stands to one side and I manoeuvre the pram awkwardly into the dimly lit hallway. ‘I’m Mrs Sparks’s carer. Follow me, I’ll introduce you to her.’ Mina steps off the buggy board and slides her hand into mine. The baby is sleeping, so I pull his blanket a little lower – the air is stifling – and leave him in the pram. I shoot an anxious look at my mother, but she nods and makes a shooing motion for me to follow the nurse. We step through a doorway into a cluttered sitting room. Ornaments cover every inch of available surface, as thin sunshine battles its way through yellowing nets and Phil and Holly talk soundlessly on the television. An elderly lady sits in a high-backed armchair, a hand-knitted shawl over her legs. She looks frail and fragile, other-worldly almost.

‘Elsie?’ The nurse crouches in front of her. ‘This is the lady Miranda was telling you about. This is Allie Harper. She’s come to talk to you about the old house.’ She flashes me a reassuring smile and makes a discreet exit.

‘Hello, Mrs Sparks, thank you for agreeing to talk to me.’ I perch on the edge of the sofa opposite, Mina sliding to stand between my knees. ‘This is my mother, Sophie.’

‘It is nice to meet you, Mrs Sparks.’ My mother steps forward into a thin shaft of sunlight that forces its way through a gap in the net curtains.

The elderly lady’s gaze drifts towards my mother, and then back down to me, her blue eyes clear and bright. ‘Elsie. Call me Elsie.’ Her voice is quiet, and I lean in to hear her. ‘So, you live in the cottage? At Gowdie Cottage?’