Sheena and Philip Renton seldom coincided. Their busy working lives described complex ellipses that necessitated a small army of staff to perform all the delegated tasks of cleaning, cooking, washing, gardening – and taking care of little Georgia. Sheena earned almost three times as much as her husband, which in her eyes gave her carte blanche to be away from home for almost all the hours of daylight.

But when she did eventually come home that evening, her husband was waiting for her, sitting in the large kitchen with a cold beer in front of him.

‘All right?’ she asked him automatically. ‘Had a good day?’

‘You ought to be asking me if I’ve had a good week,’ he grumbled. ‘It’s about that long since I saw you long enough to talk about anything. I don’t count this morning,’ he added with a weak smile.

‘Surely I spoke to you then?’ she said lightly. ‘And I’m sure I saw you the day before yesterday. Anyway, with Georgia out of the way it’s a great chance to do some catching up. I went to Swindon this morning to stir them up a bit. Just because it’s August, they think they can switch off and do bugger all.’

He looked at her closely, wondering when they’d last taken any real notice of each other. They’d only been married eight years, after all. Wasn’t that a bit soon for such routine apathy? They almost never went anywhere together or discussed anything halfway serious.

‘I mean it,’ he tried again. ‘I’ve got things to tell you.’

‘Shut up, Phil,’ she snapped. ‘I’ve got stacks to do. Haven’t you got somebody you should be phoning? Did you call that Roger chap back?’

‘There were people here yesterday looking for Justine,’ persisted.

‘Oh? Did you tell them she’s away? Where did she say she was going? What did they want her for?’

‘Seemingly Penn’s been worrying about her. She hasn’t turned up for something she said she would. I don’t know where she was going.’

Something in his tone hooked her attention. She frowned at him. ‘Hang on. Has something been going on here that I should know about? When’s she coming back? Georgia’s due home – tomorrow, is it? We’ll need Justine at the weekend. I’ll be in Edinburgh.’

‘I thought you’d forgotten all about Georgia,’ he said harshly.

She tossed her head. ‘She’s fine with your mother. I don’t see any point in worrying. Maybe we could ask her to keep her a bit longer? Have you phoned them? I bet they’re having a whale of a time.’

Philip looked away, grabbing blindly for his bottle of beer and swigging from it. ‘For all you care, Mum might as well keep her permanently,’ he accused.

She didn’t rise to the bait. There was enough truth in his words to keep her silent. Letting herself become a mother had been the biggest mistake she’d ever made, and she had never been able to hide the fact from herself or from Philip. The child had no doubt been aware of it too. A solemn, well-behaved little girl, she’d quickly learnt not to cling. Instead she went willingly to the day nursery and assortment of babysitters that her parents found for her, quietly playing with bricks or crayons. It was as if the whole family had made a pact to hurry through these inconvenient years of infancy as rapidly as possible, because once Georgia grew up, everything would be so much better for them all. They could have holidays together then, in a civilised fashion, and Georgia would no longer be such a nuisance.

Sheena was almost grateful to her daughter for the way she seemed to understand. Whenever she experienced a pang of guilt at her lack of maternal feeling, she would ask the child, ‘Are you okay, sweetie?’ and Georgia would always nod briskly and proffer a drawing or toy as if to demonstrate her contentedness. She made it easy for her mother to pursue her own course with none of the anguish of many a working mother.

How she’d managed to get onto such a treadmill, Sheena couldn’t now quite recall, but on it she was, and it was thrilling, most of the time. If she could swing a couple more meetings, using every female trick available, and then some, she’d be all set for a major step up the career ladder. Two steps, probably. Ladder, she repeated to herself. Not a treadmill at all. Treadmills just went round in a big circle, and dumped you back where you started. She was no hamster. She was a climber. She was going to scale the heights, and look back over her shoulder at all the sad little people down on the ground. Having the baby had been a bad mistake, and for a few months, Sheena had worried that she’d never regain her momentum, but it had all worked well enough, once she pulled herself together.

Phil was useless, of course. Show her a man who wasn’t. And he was always lying to her. It wasn’t so much the lies she objected to, as the minimal effort he made to be convincing. It was demeaning to have him tell her two contradictory things about how he’d spent his day, when any fool could see that neither story was true. She supposed he’d been having some sort of fling, as several people had warned her he would if she didn’t make more effort as a wife. But she didn’t think it would ever turn into anything serious. Philip was hers for life; they’d been through too much together, with that unspeakable foot and mouth business, followed by his dad’s suicide. Phil depended on her for his stability and security, and if the sex was perfunctory between them, then that really wasn’t so important. She liked living at Gladcombe, having so much space, and so few other people around. It wasn’t a real farm any more, of course, but that at least meant less mud and muck and midnight crises. If Philip could make enough money at his forage dealing to satisfy his own self-esteem, then that was plenty for her. In fact it very often seemed to comprise the best of all worlds.

She realised he hadn’t answered her question. ‘Have you?’ she repeated.

‘Have I what?’

‘Phoned your mother to see how they’re getting on.’

‘I did try a couple of times, but there was no reply. They’ll have been on a beach or something. Mum’d soon let us know if there was a problem.’ He took another swig of the beer and got up from the chair. ‘I think I’ll just …’ he moved towards the door, ‘… um, go and see if there’s enough oil in the car. The red light came on this afternoon.’

She let him go, her thoughts again on her forthcoming meetings. Any babysitting difficulties could be resolved nearer the time. Philip had a point, anyway. While the weather was nice and everything apparently going smoothly, Georgia may as well stay another week or so with her granny.

The phone started ringing out in the hall. Normally Sheena would leave the answering machine to deal with it, but she was already heading for the stairs and passing close by the instrument. She picked it up without really thinking.

‘Sheena? It’s me. How are you, dear?’

It was Yvonne Renton, her mother-in-law, apparently conjured by the recent conversation and Sheena’s last thoughts.

‘Hi, Mum, we’re fine.  Sorry we haven’t managed to speak to you all week. Phil says he did try, but …’

‘Not to worry, then.  I’m just the same as always. No need to keep ringing me.’

‘But we really should, seeing you’ve got Georgia with you.’

‘Pardon?’ The voice was suddenly sharp. ‘What did you say?’

‘Georgia. How is she? Is she being good? Can I have a word with her? We’ve just been talking about you both and wondering – well, wondering if you might keep her a bit longer …’

The older woman’s voice cut through her words. ‘Georgia isn’t here, Sheena. Surely you knew that? Philip phoned me last week and cancelled the whole arrangement. I must say I wasn’t at all happy about it. I’d been planning and preparing it for weeks. I hope she’s over her flu now? That’s really what I phoned to ask.’

Sheena couldn’t think. Her brain seemed to have been anaesthetised. All she could feel was embarrassment. She’d been so inattentive as to miss some crucial piece of information. Philip had obviously told her what was happening and she’d forgotten, or never even heard him. But flu? Surely she would have known if the child had flu?

Instinct reassured her that everything was all right. Philip must be playing some kind of stupid game and she’d quickly get out of him just what was going on. In any case there was no sense in alarming her mother-in-law, although it might be too late to think of that.

‘Sheena? Are you there?’

‘Yes, I’m here. I’ve been away all week, you see. I only just got in and haven’t had a chance to speak to Philip yet. I didn’t know about the flu. Last I heard, Georgia was going off to you. It sounds bad, I know, but it’s all going crazy at work and I haven’t had a chance to check in here.’ She was babbling, aware of how it must come across to Philip’s mother, but willing at the moment to paint herself in a bad light rather than admit she’d been lied to.

‘You know, Sheena,’ the older woman said conversationally, ‘I do sometimes wonder whether you deserve that child.’

‘Well, thanks for that,’ spat Sheena. ‘I’ll get Phil to phone you after I’ve spoken to him.’

‘Yes, you do that,’ the woman was saying as Sheena put the phone down.

Penn felt a desperate need to keep busy. Time had dragged all day, with no phone calls, no visitors, nothing to distract her from her obsessive thoughts. She would have liked to phone Roma or even the newfound Cousin Karen, but she couldn’t think of a convincing pretext. If there’d been any news about Justine, someone would have contacted her. The tall policeman had said something vague about putting out a description and that was probably as far as any police effort would go.

By early evening she’d reached the conclusion that she ought to go away for a few days. Then she could come back refreshed to resume her life. At least, that was her most optimistic scenario. There were much darker visions at times. When she tried to consider the situation dispassionately, she repeatedly bumped up against any number of complications and hazards. Had she been clever enough? Had Drew Slocombe been convinced by what he’d found in the cottage? For the hundredth time she ran through it all from every angle. She was determined that it would work out, no matter how high the cost. Penn Strabinski had always been a determined character, always getting what she wanted. There had been setbacks, of course, but she wouldn’t even contemplate failure at this point. There was far too much at stake now and definitely no going back.

But it would be sensible to absent herself for a few days, all the same. There was nothing more  she could do until things quietened down again and everyone went back to their accustomed grooves. Not until then could she embark on the next stage of her plan. The next and final stage.

The only affectionate greeting Justine received was from Lolly. The little dog jumped off Roma’s lap and flew to welcome the newcomer. Bending stiffly, Justine took the animal between her hands. ‘Hello, little thing. What’s your name, then?’ She glanced enquiringly at her mother.

‘Lolita,’ supplied Roma gruffly. Justine snorted in derisive amusement.

Drew found himself meeting Laurie’s gaze, which seemed entirely as bewildered as he himself felt. Then he looked again at the girl. ‘You’re Justine?’ he asked faintly. He thought he’d recognised the figure from the oil painting in the cottage he’d searched.

‘That’s right,’ she confirmed. ‘And I’m very lucky to be alive. I’ve been locked up for days with no water and my hands tied behind my back.’ She spoke angrily as if at least one of those present were directly responsible for her plight.

Laurie seemed to come to his senses. ‘You poor girl!’ he exclaimed. ‘You look dreadful. Come and sit down. Can I bring you anything? Would you like to go and have a good wash?’

As if at a signal, Roma finally joined in. ‘What on earth have you been doing?’ she demanded. ‘What’s been going on?’

‘Don’t bully her, woman,’ Laurie said. ‘The poor girl’s in no state to answer questions.’

‘But …’ Roma considered snapping back, but a renewed burst of weeping from Justine distracted her. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Roma tutted. ‘You’ll have to tell us something. Do you need a doctor? Are you hungry? Do you want me to get a bed ready?’

‘Bed,’ the girl whispered. ‘I haven’t slept for days. Only odd snatches.’

‘Right. I’ll go and find some clean sheets, then.’ Roma started to leave the room, then turned back. ‘Did I hear you correctly? Somebody kidnapped you, did they?’

Justine nodded. ‘I’m in the most awful trouble, Mum. Otherwise I wouldn’t have come. I know you don’t want me. But—’ she looked desperately from face to face, pausing worriedly at Drew and addressing him directly: ‘Whatever you do, don’t tell Penn I’m here.’

Karen had watched Maggs go off with the tall stranger and spent a few moments wondering who he could possibly be. The small mystery irritated her, as did many things recently. Everybody seemed to be having a much more interesting life than hers, and there was little prospect of changing that, at least until Timothy started school. Drew’s erratic career was full of unpredictable variety, most of which Karen never heard about. She watched the burials taking place in the field behind the house, but almost never got directly involved. Her only solace, pathetically, seemed to be the vegetable garden that occupied so much of her time.

Stephanie and Timmy were wonderful, of course. They were funny and interesting and entirely adorable. They played peacefully together and were in robust good health. But Karen had been a teacher in a primary school and was accustomed to the pressures and rewards of hectic days and visible success. Life now felt thin and unstimulating by comparison. Essentially, she supposed, she felt guilty for not achieving more. And then guilty for being so boring and stupid for not enjoying what she had and making the best of it.

Much of the problem lay with Maggs. Although the two women got along well on the surface, Karen had intercepted many a pitying or even contemptuous glance. She had become a lesser person simply because she’d produced children, and childless women made no secret of this. However hard Karen worked at retaining her lively wits, at the same time as making a good job of raising the kids, she knew she’d lost status in the eyes of the world. It was irrational, unfair, often unacknowledged – but real just the same. She was aware of herself as a shadowy figure, on object of reduced attention from almost everybody.

Turning away from the window with a sigh, she went to find food for the children’s supper. Stephanie was lying on the floor, feet crossed in the air, chin resting on one hand, drawing carefully with the other. Karen nudged her with her foot. ‘That’s no way to do your drawing,’ she chided. ‘You should sit up at the table.’

The child ignored her, peaceably continuing to draw. Irritation swept through Karen again and she jabbed Stephanie’s ribs harder. ‘Get up!’ she ordered.

‘Ow!’ squealed her daughter. ‘You kicked me!’

Timothy looked up from the couch where he’d been watching television, thumb in mouth. He blinked reproachfully at his mother. Stephanie slowly got to her feet, picked up the drawing things and slid on to one of the upright chairs next to the table. She didn’t say a word. Karen closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

‘Sorry, Steph,’ she managed. ‘That was bad of me.’

Stephanie gave a very adult shrug. It was a seminal moment for Karen. Dismissed by her own child, as well as by everyone else. That’s it, she vowed silently. I’ll show them all. She didn’t know how she’d do it, but she wasn’t going to let herself be ignored any more. Just wait till Drew gets home, she fumed.

Sheena went carefully out to the yard, looking for Philip. Her head felt swollen and impossibly sensitive. Inside it there were lightning flashes, as the implications of her mother-in-law’s words struggled to be understood. Only one thing was clear: Philip had lied to her about Georgia’s whereabouts. And that made no possible sense.

She found him coming around the corner of the house from the covered area where they kept their cars, and stood in front of him, trying to focus on his face.

‘Where is she, Phil? What have you done with her?’

‘Who? What?’ He widened his eyes and reached out a hand to her. She backed away from him.

‘Your mother just phoned. Georgia isn’t with her. She hasn’t been there at all. Tell me what the bloody hell is going on.’ Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, but her husband’s expression reflected back none of her panic.

‘She’s perfectly all right,’ he said, quickly. ‘It was idiotic of me not to tell you, but there didn’t seem much point.’ He smiled tentatively. ‘I didn’t think you’d be too pleased about it, so decided to let it wait until they came back.’

‘What?’ she almost screamed. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Come on, Sheen. Cool down. There’s no need to get in a state. Christ, you hardly notice the kid when she is here. It doesn’t matter to you if I change the arrangements.’

She held her breath and inwardly counted to five. ‘It does matter, actually. I’m her mother. I do in fact want to know where she is at all times.’

‘Well, I’m sorry. I just had a better idea, that’s all. Honestly, darling, she’s perfectly all right.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ She realised as she spoke that it was dreadfully true. Philip was too relaxed, making too big an effort to keep his shoulders loose, his face bland. He should at least be alarmed by her discovery. Such insouciance was unnatural. But if he was intent on playing some horrible game, she saw no option but to co-operate. She turned to go back into the house, flipping one hand at him to follow her. ‘Okay,’ she snapped. ‘You can prove it to me. Call the number where she is and let me speak to her.’

‘I can’t. She’s camping,’ he said. Sheena was reminded crazily of a television sitcom, where people dig themselves deeper and deeper into trouble by inventing more and more extreme lies to cover their mistakes.

‘Camping,’ she repeated woodenly. ‘Where? Who with?’

‘Justine!’ he announced, and for half a second, she believed him. ‘I let Justine take her. She begged me. You know how fond they are of each other. There didn’t seem to be any harm in it.’

Sheena savoured this story, watching his face. He grinned self-deprecatingly and spread his hands. It was a good performance, but there was a parodic feel to it – an actor depicting rueful confession of a rather minor misdemeanour.

‘Is that really true?’ she demanded. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? Why all the secrecy?’

‘I thought you might be jealous,’ he said. ‘Of Justine. Having all that time with your daughter. Silly,’ he tried to laugh. ‘You hardly even thought about her till now.’

‘Because I thought she was safe. I thought she was being organised to death on the Isle of Wight. Which is how she likes it. How could you do that to your mother? Even I wouldn’t be that rotten.’

He shrugged. ‘She didn’t really mind. It was going to be a sweat for her.’

‘But …’ she felt the first real thrusts of fear. ‘Where is she now? Where’s Justine? When are they supposed to come back? Tell me the truth, Phil. You’ve got to tell me everything.’

He pushed past her into the kitchen and sat down on one of the wooden chairs, leaving her to choose whether to stand or sit. She opted to remain vertical, leaning lightly against the edge of the sink, her back to the window. ‘It’s quite a long story,’ he said. ‘And you’re not going to like it.’

‘Tell me,’ she repeated. But she allowed herself to glance at the clock on the wall, and to note that she had five minutes before the conference call with their American sister company. If she missed it, she’d lose so much ground, it would take six months to recover. She gritted her teeth, and glared at her husband. ‘Am I right to be afraid something’s happened to Georgia?’ she demanded.

‘Of course not,’ he said emphatically.

‘If I can believe that, then the rest can wait,’ she said. ‘Can’t it?’

‘Absolutely,’ he agreed, with transparent relief. ‘You get off to your telephoning. I know how important it is to you.’

Her mother-in-law’s words echoed in her head. I do wonder whether you deserve that child. Something told Sheena that she would never manage to live with herself if she let it drop now. Her child had been with a girl who’d had strange people come looking for her, for nearly a week, and her husband was trying to tell her something he knew she wouldn’t want to hear. Some story she couldn’t begin to guess at. Only a monster would go off to a conference call at a moment like this. She might be an inattentive mother, but she wasn’t a monster. She stifled the groan that threatened to turn into hysterics if she didn’t keep strict control.

‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘You know I can’t. Something terrible’s been going on, and I’ve been blind and deaf and unforgivably stupid. So tell me the whole thing. Please.’

He wouldn’t look at her, but instead swung his gaze from floor to window and back again, in a jerky arc. ‘Sit down then,’ he told her. She obeyed, wondering when the numbness would turn to something much sharper.

‘I’ve been having an affair with Justine,’ he began. ‘For about two months now. We’re lovers.’ He said the word roundly, as if it held a vital key to what came next. As if it was the one sweet note in a discordant song.

Sheena clenched a fist on her thigh. ‘Why does it feel as though that’s the least of my worries?’ she grated.

‘Well … we’ve been talking about going away together, taking Georgia with us,’ he said quickly.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she dismissed. ‘You’d never leave this place. You’re fooling yourself, and that wretched girl. Look, phone her, will you? Tell her to come back right away.’ She tried to quell the tremor in her voice. Philip simply stood there, shaking his head slowly.

‘Don’t tell me she hasn’t got a mobile?’

‘She left it behind. I haven’t spoken to her since she left.’

Sheena’s fear returned. ‘What?’

‘I think something might have gone wrong,’ he admitted. ‘I thought she would have got in touch by now.’

‘When were you going to tell me about this?’

‘Soon, I suppose. When we had it all properly organised.’

‘So what kept your mouth shut when you realised you had no idea where our little girl was? When for all you knew they were both dead in a ditch somewhere? I can’t believe anyone could be so appallingly irresponsible.’

He doesn’t deserve the child, either, she thought. What a pair we are!

‘It’ll be all right,’ he said desperately. ‘They’ll turn up.’

I’m phoning the police now,’ she said. ‘What was all that stuff you told me earlier on? People looking for Justine? What did you really tell them?’

‘That she’s gone camping,’ he said loudly. ‘The truth.’

‘So why are people looking for her?’ Sheena repeated. ‘Philip, I’ve had the feeling for the past half hour that something is terribly wrong.’

‘No, no,’ he persisted. ‘Look, don’t call the police this evening. It’ll be dark in a bit. They’re not going to do anything until tomorrow, are they? Wait till then. Justine might phone us this evening, anyway. Georgia won’t come to any harm.’

She clenched her fists ineffectually. ‘I don’t see any point in waiting. They’ll ask why we delayed.’ She looked into his eyes, trying to read him. ‘Are you truly not worried?’

‘Truly not,’ he said, unblinking.

She glanced at her watch. She had only missed a few minutes of the conference call. It would probably go on for at least an hour. Philip had given her a firm assurance. She continued to watch him. ‘Aren’t you afraid for Georgia?’ she asked one last time, with genuine curiosity. ‘Doesn’t it occur to you that you might have handed her over to a psychopath? Or that they’ve both been murdered? Why aren’t you showing more concern? Why aren’t you as scared as I am?’

‘I’m scared,’ he laughed tightly. ‘Believe me, I’m scared. But not for Georgia.’

Drew felt very much in the way as Roma and Laurie slowly began to realise that Justine needed more than a drink and somewhere to lie down, but it didn’t seriously occur to him to leave. After all, he had been asked to find the girl, and her sudden reappearance was far too interesting for him to miss whatever might happen next. Roma came back from making up a bed, finding Justine sunk exhaustedly into Laurie’s usual chair, showing no sign of wanting to climb the stairs.

Roma was stiffly furious, from the look of her. She had introduced Drew, adding, ‘He’s been looking for you, as it happens.’

Drew’s immediate thought was that Maggs should be there. It seemed all wrong without her. She’d have enjoyed it enormously. As for him, he simply felt embarrassed.

Justine’s eyes narrowed ‘Looking for me? Why?’

‘He won’t hurt you,’ said Roma, contempt clear in her voice. ‘I should think he’s as curious as I am to hear what you have to say for yourself.’

Justine let her head flop back. ‘I don’t think I can,’ she said faintly.

‘Start from the beginning,’ Laurie advised calmly. ‘If you’re feeling well enough, that is. You’re probably thirsty, aren’t you?’

‘I’d love some orange juice or something,’ she admitted, seeming very small in the deep chair. Bare feet added to the waiflike image. Drew had a sense of struggle to maintain a fragile poise. Roma didn’t move to fetch the drink.

After a long minute, Laurie got up heavily, and went out of the room. As he passed Justine, he looked into her face. ‘Everything’s going to be all right,’ he said kindly.

Roma tutted, and returned to her interrupted defence of Drew. ‘You needn’t worry about Drew. He’s family, more or less.’

‘What?’

‘His wife is Penn’s cousin. On her father’s side.’

Justine snorted, as if this were the final straw. ‘And that’s supposed to make me trust him, is it? Penn’s insane, you know,’ she went on earnestly. ‘She tried to kill me. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.’

Roma tutted again. ‘Rubbish!’ she said vigorously. ‘Penn’s been very worried about you. She asked Drew to try to find you.’

‘Are you a detective?’ the girl addressed Drew directly for the first time. He looked into the dark eyes, which were the same colour and shape as Maggs’s, he noticed, but with none of the humour or energy.

‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I seem to wander into complications from time to time, that’s all. I’m actually an undertaker. That might account for it. I’m drawn into people’s lives at times of crisis. And when someone dies, their secrets start leaking out.’

‘Who said anything about anybody dying?’ Justine seemed angry. ‘Why did Penn go to an undertaker, for God’s sake.’

‘I think my profession was irrelevant at the time. It was just a coincidence. All she knew was that I’m married to Karen.’ It sounded unconvincing to Drew, even as he spoke. It had been the weak spot all along, as Maggs had been quick to point out.

‘Actually, she did know you were an undertaker,’ said Roma. ‘That’s how I knew who she was talking about. She said you were New Agey.’

Drew gave this some thought. ‘I wonder who she’d been talking to, then? Karen wouldn’t have given her that impression.’

‘You are rather famous, you know,’ Roma informed him. ‘It’s not the local press any more. Even I saw the piece about you in The Guardian not so long ago, and I hardly bother with the papers. Penn probably saw it, and made the connection with her cousin’s surname.’

Laurie came back with the orange juice, and handed it solicitously to Justine. ‘They’re not interested in me,’ she said to him in a little girl voice. ‘They keep talking about Penn.’

Roma smacked the table with the flat of her hand, not hard, but more than enough to indicate her frame of mind. ‘Perhaps Penn’s more interesting,’ she said unpleasantly.

She doesn’t like her own daughter, Drew realised. The hints had been there, from Roma herself, but now he experienced it for himself, and it came as a shock, even though he wasn’t inclined to like Justine very much himself, the way she was behaving at the moment. Had she always been hard to like, or had Roma’s antipathy created a person who had come to expect the whole world to feel the same as her mother did? It seemed to Drew that the answer to this mattered quite a lot.

‘Nothing’s changed, has it, Mum?’ Justine said. ‘You still think I’m a waste of space.’

‘Prove to me otherwise,’ Roma invited. ‘Go on, I’m waiting. You turn up here looking like a Bosnian asylum seeker on a bad day, and then start whingeing about God knows what. Please, tell us why you’re here.’

‘Penn kidnapped me and held me prisoner in a foul derelict hovel,’ Justine said, looking from face to face as if expecting to be disbelieved. ‘She locked me in, and left me, with my hands tied behind me. I only had horrible water that came through a hole in the roof. If it hadn’t rained I’d be dead by now.’ She held out her wrists for inspection. They were banded by weals and raw places where the skin had rubbed away.

Roma met Drew’s eye. Each raised brows, in silent question. Drew felt the room dividing into factions, him and Roma against Justine and Laurie.

‘Where? Where did she leave you?’ Roma demanded.

‘I had no idea at the time, but when I finally got out and found a road, it turned out to be a place near Glastonbury.’

‘So how did you get out?’ Drew asked. ‘Did you unscrew the hinges?’ Unscrewing the hinges was Drew’s own personal contingency plan, should such a fate ever befall him.

‘I tried,’ she turned to him earnestly. ‘But the screws wouldn’t budge. There wasn’t a screwdriver, so I had to use a knife. I broke two blades before I gave up.’

Roma cleared her throat. ‘This sounds like a rather weak B-movie,’ she remarked. ‘Are you sure you haven’t lost your grip, dear?’

‘I knew you’d say that.’ Justine laid both hands palms upwards in her lap, deliberately calm. ‘How do you think I got these marks, then?’

‘She’s obviously had a terrible time,’ Laurie insisted nervously. ‘We should hear her out.’

‘Thank you.’ Justine threw him a smile. ‘She thinks I’ve staged the whole thing as some bizarre act of cruelty against her. Don’t you?’ she challenged her mother.

Roma sniffed, like an offended headmistress. ‘I still have no idea what to think,’ she said imperiously. ‘So far you haven’t made any sense at all.’

‘Perhaps you should keep quiet and listen,’ said the girl, wincing as she altered her position. You say everyone’s been looking for me – right? I said, didn’t I? They’re out to get me.’ She grew wild-eyed, turning her head to face them all, one by one.

‘Nobody’s out to get you,’ Roma contradicted her impatiently. ‘You sound like a madwoman. Who might they be, anyway? Have a bit of sense.’

‘They’ve been worried about you,’ Laurie explained soothingly. ‘Penn in particular. She told Drew you’d gone missing and then phoned us here. She thought you were in trouble.’

Justine coughed inarticulate indignation at this. Laurie smiled understandingly, adding, ‘Then Drew went to your place and saw your landlord.’

Justine turned to Drew. ‘Really? What did you think, when you saw the cottage?’

‘I thought it looked as if you’d left in a hurry.’

‘Right. I did. She tricked me into getting into my own car, with her driving …’ She shook her head, apparently at her own folly. ‘Then she parked in the woods, and attacked me.’

‘How?’ Drew was fascinated.

‘She pushed a pad into my face that smelt disgusting. Chloroform, I suppose. She must have had it all ready.’

‘Where’s your car now?’ Drew pressed, remembering the description of it.

‘Still tucked away in the woods, probably. When I woke up, we were getting out of her car and I was gagged, with my hands tied. I was so groggy and so totally astonished I didn’t put up much of a fight. Then she left me.’

‘So how did you get out?’ Roma asked, scepticism vivid on her face.

‘I managed to make a hole in the wall, beside an upstairs window. The place was made of cob and there was a soft bit. I climbed out, scrambled down a tree that had a branch within reach. It’s lucky I’m so small, but it was still a tight fit and I’ve got bruises all round my middle, where I had to force myself through. And then I fell about twenty feet and banged my knee.’

‘And then you walked forty miles with a bad knee and your hands tied behind you, until you got here,’ Roma supplied.

‘No. I hitched, actually, and walked the last half-mile.’

‘How did you get your hands untied?’

Justine shuddered. ‘I almost pulled my arms out of their sockets, wriggling them round to the front. Believe it or not, it can be done. Then I chewed through the rope. It took hours.’ She threw her mother a scathing look. ‘That was before I made the hole in the wall.’

Drew gazed at her, aware of an increasing desire to believe her. But the part about Penn was altogether incredible. There had to be lies or fantasy mixed into the story.

‘And how did you manage to find this place?’ Roma pressed on ruthlessly.

Justine paused, flushing pink. ‘I looked you up, ages ago, on the Ordnance Survey. I knew how to get to you.’

Roma was momentarily silenced, but Drew noted the effect Justine’s words had had.

‘I think that’s enough questions,’ said Laurie. ‘The poor girl’s dead on her feet. She needs a hot bath and clean clothes. Probably a doctor as well.’

Justine shook her head. ‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘Just terribly tired and stiff.’

‘The person you hitched with,’ Drew put in, more gently than Roma’s interrogation had been. ‘They must have been concerned about you.’

‘It was a young girl,’ Justine told him. ‘She was in a hurry and didn’t want to get involved in anything awkward. I told her I’d fallen over a stone in the road and scraped myself. People believe whatever you tell them.’

Roma gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘Some people, maybe,’ she remarked.

Laurie mumbled an inarticulate reproach and Drew suppressed a sudden urge to defend the girl against her intractable mother. This was an unfamiliar Roma and he began to regret having so unthinkingly taken her side. There was a long moment of silence.

‘So what happens now?’ Roma finally inquired. ‘Are you afraid that Penn will seek you out, and force you back into captivity?’

‘I’m hoping you won’t let her,’ Justine’s voice was stronger. ‘But she’ll tell you everything I’ve said is made up. She’ll say I’m in the habit of fantasising, and must be off my head.’

Roma’s face clearly revealed her reaction to this. ‘Penn’s always been perfectly straight with me,’ she said. ‘She’s been an ideal niece, all her life. We get along very smoothly.’

‘She’s extremely devious, and she’s got something going on that she doesn’t want you or me or anyone to know about. She set this up, you know – my disappearance. She thought it all through, step by step.’

Drew let a small sound escape his lips as he thought of all the wild theories Maggs would probably come up with at this point. Everyone looked at him. He tried to pretend he was coughing.

‘But why?’ Roma returned to the point. ‘Why on earth would she do that?’

‘I spent days trying to think of an answer to that,’ Justine replied. ‘And all I could come up with was that she’s always hated me, and this is some sort of mad revenge.’

‘She never hated you. She adored you. She followed you around, worried about you. You were the greatest of friends, right from the start.’

‘No, Mum. We fought like cats. We competed over every single tiny thing. But she can’t leave me alone. She always has to score one more point over me.’ Her face crumpled suddenly. ‘But I did think she liked me, that we were friends. I still can’t believe she wants me dead.’

Roma took a long breath. ‘Well, somebody’s obviously cracked in all this,’ she summarised. ‘I’m even beginning to think it might be me. Nothing you just said makes the slightest sense. It’s totally at odds with the way I’ve always seen the family.’

‘I don’t think anybody’s mad,’ said Drew, tentatively. ‘It’s like this in families; people see things differently, remember things differently, too. When you get the whole picture, you can usually see how everyone’s perception fits in.’

‘Come on, Drew!’ Roma protested. ‘Either Penn locked Justine up in a remote shack or she didn’t. If she did, then Penn’s got a screw loose, and if she didn’t, then Justine’s either telling a terrible lie, or else she can’t distinguish fact from fantasy. You’re not telling me there are any other interpretations, are you?’

‘Obviously there are,’ Drew said. ‘Penn could have very sane and sound reasons for doing what she did. She could be following orders from someone else. Or she could have shut Justine in by mistake …’

Justine laughed unpleasantly. ‘No, she didn’t do it by mistake,’ she told him. ‘It was all very very deliberate.’