‘Oh, chill out,’ said Flora. ‘It won’t have any cartridges in it. Dad will have used those to kill the cow. You know he only ever loads it with one or two.’

But, still, Heather felt uneasy about it. Gun safety had been drilled into her so many times.

Flora laughed. ‘We can be cops!’

‘You know we’re not allowed to play with them. And, anyway, I don’t think cops use shotguns. Put it down, please, you’re making me nervous.’

‘Oh, it’s fine …’ The words died on her lips. Their father was striding towards them. Heather began to tremble. Now they were in trouble.

When he saw that Flora was holding his gun his face turned purple. ‘What the fuck are you doing? Put the goddamn gun down now!’

Flora lowered it to the ground, as though she was holding an unexploded bomb. She laid it at her and Heather’s feet and held up her hands in surrender. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she began, her face crumpling.

It happened within a blink of an eye. Keith was suddenly looming over them, grabbing Flora by her puny little upper arms and shaking her so violently Heather thought she could hear her sister’s teeth rattling. ‘You never play with guns, you stupid, stupid girl,’ he yelled. And then he slapped her hard around the face.

It was as though time stood still. Even the trees seemed to freeze, mid-sway. Silence descended all around them, as if everything had taken a collective breath, and Flora touched her stinging cheek, tears of shock in her eyes.

Before Heather could process what she was about to do, she leaned over and grabbed the gun. She stepped away from her father but with the barrel aimed at his chest. She was consumed by a sudden, blinding rage.

He looked as though he was about to burst with anger. His big, round head reminded Heather of the blueberries from the Ribena adverts. ‘Give that back to me, you little shit,’ he spluttered.

‘You leave Flora alone,’ cried Heather, taking another step backwards.

He looked confused for a second. ‘I’m not touching Flora. Now give me back the gun or you’ll get a good hiding from me. You and your sister.’

And that was when she pulled the trigger.

She’d been so consumed with anger and fear that her mind was blank as the gun fired in her hands, her arm shuddering under the weight of it.

It was surreal, like watching a movie. Heather felt as if she had floated away from her body and was looking down at them all, watching as her father flew backwards, his eyes wide with surprise, the blood spreading across the front of his shirt. And then their mother’s cries and Flora’s screams, and Heather had dropped the gun to cover her ears because it was all too much. Too much.