Why is Nell mentioning that now? Has she made some connection between that and the dead sheep Dad was on about all evening? Surely not!

‘What about it? It was nowt.’

‘But what did you mean about a spell, Gina?’

‘I’ve just said, it was nowt.’

‘You didn’t look like it was nowt at the time. You looked … I don’t know … like I’ve never seen you before. It was strange and a bit scary.’

‘Nell, it was just summat silly, a game. I wanted to see if I could frighten you without doing owt.’

‘Frighten me? Why?’

‘Just to see if you’d be scared. I made a bet with myself. It was just a bit of nonsense. I don’t know why I did it. But it’s all right, there was nothing to be scared about. It was a daft game, that’s all.’

‘You can be very unkind, Gina. Can you at least try to be nice now you’ve got the job at the Hall? New start and all?’

‘Yes, all right. New start, new me,’ Gina said, hoping to end the conversation by turning off the overhead light on her side of the room with the switch on the flex beside her bed. Thank goodness Ellen hadn’t voiced a connection between the little bottle and the death of the sheep. Of course, Gina would have dismissed any such idea, but she still didn’t want anyone even thinking along those lines.

Her thoughts turned to Mrs Thwaite, the housekeeper, and their encounter that day. Gina had brought Coco from his first walk back in through the door to the downstairs corridor and there was Mrs Thwaite with a face that would sour milk.

‘You’d better not have that puppy walking dirt all over the house, girl,’ she said.

‘Good morning to you, too,’ said Gina. ‘Mrs S says you’ll show me where to clean his feet.’

‘She did, did she? And it’s Mrs Stellion to you, young madam.’

Gina didn’t reply, just stood and waited while Coco sat leaning against her leg. Eventually she spoke again: ‘Mrs Thwaite, are you going to show me, or shall I go and find a bathroom upstairs?’ She made to move off and Mrs Thwaite stepped in front of her, thinking she really meant it.

‘No! I forbid you to do that!’ She held up a hand as if to prevent Gina’s progress.

‘You forbid me, do you? Well, Mrs Thwaite, Mrs Stellion has asked me to bath the dog and she said you’d show me where. If you can’t do as you’re told, then I’ll sort myself out.’

‘Can’t do as I’m told?’ The woman looked ready to explode with indignation.

‘That’s right. You’ve got it,’ said Gina, smirking.

Mrs Thwaite turned puce and led the way silently to the scullery where Gina had left the basket of spinach earlier.