Catherine knew she risked alienating Eliza and the officers from the Protected Persons Unit if she was photographed and interviewed in a newspaper, but with Edward and Honor gone, she had nothing left to lose. Everyone she loved had abandoned her. The only route open to her now was the truth.

Brinley parked the car in front of the house in the middle of nowhere. They sat in silence, the protection of the night a salve to them both. Catherine glanced at Brinley. Her head was bowed, her knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. She mistook it for refusal.

‘I’ll make a statement to the police. I’ll do everything I can to make it as official as possible.’ The words fell from her, garbled and desperate. ‘I won’t change my mind, I promise. I know it’s a lot to ask, but please say you’ll help me. You’re the only one who can corroborate my story.’

Brinley didn’t move, her head still bowed. Catherine stopped talking, despair tightening her throat, closing it up.

The night was as bright and sharp as a pin. Frost scattered the road with tiny diamonds. The undergrowth rustled with unseen life, shying away from the moon. Catherine had been hiding herself for so long now, but it was time to step into the light. She would just have to do it on her own.

She was halfway out of the car when Brinley spoke again, her voice varnished with sorrow.

‘I’ve brought something – a notebook. It might help you,’ she said.

Catherine turned to her, a smile of relief breaking across her face, a hand reaching out to her. But her stomach dropped away at the expression on Brinley’s face.

‘What is it?’ she said. ‘What’s wrong?’

Brinley drew in a lungful of cold air. Her hands were trembling when she spoke. ‘The body of my great-aunt was found in our flat yesterday. She’d been stabbed fourteen times. A pair of kitchen scissors was recovered at the scene.’ She looked up at Catherine, her eyes burning with grief and shock. ‘I think your sister killed her.’

I didn’t mean to do it. Sometimes things happen and I don’t know why. A screen comes down until I’m blinded by it, grasping in the darkness with no sense of what I’m doing. Does that ever happen to you?

I only wanted to talk to her. It’s important to me that you know that. Even after all these years, her address hadn’t changed. I could hardly believe my luck. But the old woman wouldn’t let me in and so I had to persuade her, and then matters got out of hand. The past belongs in the past. I trust your mother understands that too.

Look at me, droning on. Ignore me. I’d like to hear all about you instead. Tell me again about your lovely new home.

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