‘Shit.’ I wipe my hands on the tea towel that hangs on the Aga, the skin feeling cracked and raw from the cleaning products, and open the door to the postman. ‘Thanks.’ I take the mail from him, scanning through the envelopes as I push the door closed with my shoulder. ‘Oh … wait!’ There is an envelope marked with an address in the next road over, that has slipped in between two of ours. Opening the door, I call out, hurrying along the path to the road, hoping to catch the postman before he gets back in his van. Too late. He is already driving away as I reach the pavement. I shrug and make my way back up the path towards the front door, past the huge yew tree in the front garden. At first, I don’t notice them, it’s only as I get closer that I do a double take, registering that there is something in the tree that doesn’t look right. Moving closer, I frown, the envelopes in my hand forgotten as I step towards the pile of leaves and squashed berries, my hair tangling in the low hanging branches as I almost walk into them. Raising my hand to my mouth, I stifle the shriek that bubbles up in my throat, before I snatch a tissue from my pocket and wrap it around my hand. Bones. Tiny, fragile bones tied together with what looks like garden twine and hanging carefully at eye level in the branches of the tree.

Hurrying back into the house, I slam the door without thinking, dropping the mail to the floor where it scatters. Adrenaline courses through my body and for one unnerving moment I think I am going to be sick. Forcing deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth, I wait until the nausea has passed before I open my hand and gingerly peel back the tissue to reveal the creamy off-white bones.

As I bend my head to get a closer look, I feel it. Eyes on me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Raising my eyes, I look into the mirror, something dark and fleeting darting out of sight the moment my gaze hits the glass. There it is, that unmistakable feeling of being watched. I stand up straighter, my senses on high alert, certain that there is something, something awful, just waiting for me to drop my guard. Squeezing my fist tightly closed I step back, my knees feeling as if they will give way beneath me, my eyes never leaving the glass. Slowly, silently I turn to look behind me at the staircase. It is empty. As I exhale, my breath steams slightly in the mirror, and I am suddenly, inexplicably cold.

‘Mummy?’ Mina’s voice calls from the sitting room, and immediately the chill dissipates, leaving me tired and confused, standing in the hallway with the bones tightly clutched in my fist.