A whisper of moths flapped their wings in Shannon’s stomach. A lump lodged itself in her chest. She had hoped they wouldn’t come tonight, but that had been misguided.

Danielle and Orla were surrounded by eager acolytes. She caught a glimpse of shiny hair, a cropped top and skin-tight trousers. Lipstick. Heeled boots. A leather jacket. Her own clothes seemed childish and unfashionable in comparison.

She exchanged a glance with Brinley. The joy that had filled them earlier was dimming. Both sensed an undercurrent of something darker to come.

‘Shall we go?’ said Brinley, low-voiced.

Shannon half heard the question but she didn’t answer, transfixed by the scene playing out in front of her.

Danielle had broken away from her friends and was hip-swaying across the dance floor towards the DJ stand. She laid a proprietorial hand on Kit’s arm.

Kit spun around to see who it was. Danielle draped both arms around his neck, but while he offered a polite smile, he placed his palms on her shoulders, maintaining a distance between them.

As he scanned the crowd filling up the church hall over the top of her head, he noticed Shannon standing in the corner, tugging at her hair. His face blazed with a fierce kind of pleasure.

He excused himself, and then he was moving across the hall towards the oldest Carter sister, leaving Danielle alone on the edge of the dance floor, a neon wash rinsing the stones of her eyes.

As Kit pulled Shannon into a hug, an unbearable lightness filled her up. She hid her face in his neck, uncertain about whatever this was, but willing it to last forever.

Only Brinley noticed the way the light hollowed out the planes of Danielle’s face, as hard and flat as flint.

If looks could kill, Shannon Carter would be sprawled across the floor with a knife sticking out of her back.

32

Sara stuffed another pillow under the duvet and admired her handiwork. At a glance, it looked exactly as if Brinley was asleep on the camping mattress on the floor.

She changed into her pyjamas and sat on the end of her sister’s bed. The lamplight softened the starkness of the plain walls but threw up shadows that might have been monsters. She hugged her threadbare rag doll to herself and tried to concentrate on her book. She wondered if the girls were enjoying themselves and hoped they’d be home soon.

A draught nudged the bedroom curtains. Sara shivered in the thin breath of air and wandered over to shut the window. From downstairs, she heard the muffled ring of the doorbell but barely gave it a second thought. She peered into the dark garden. Would Shannon and Brinley be able to slip back in unnoticed? What if Dr and Mrs Carter heard them?