‘I hope you’re right. I’ve seen Deliverance.’

‘I’m happy for you, but back to the problem in hand …’

‘Oh, I’ll just pretend a stray text got through overnight. Anyway even if Flo doesn’t believe me, what can she say?’

Plenty, was my guess, but unless she barricaded the door, I didn’t think it would work to deflect Nina.

There was a long silence, Nina blowing smoke rings with her cigarette into the still night air, me huffing out clouds of white breath.

‘What happened back there?’ Nina asked at last. ‘That little panic attack, I mean. Was it the message?’

‘Sort of.’

‘But you didn’t think it was about you, did you?’ She looked at me sideways, curiously, and blew out a smoke ring. ‘I mean, what could you have possibly done to kill someone?’

I shrugged. ‘No, not really. Anyway, it might not have been murderer. It could have been murder. There were so many repeats I’m not sure what the word actually was.’

‘What, like a warning you mean?’ Nina asked. ‘The crazed locals coming up the hill with their pitchforks?’

I shrugged again.

‘I’m not going to lie,’ she puffed out another ring, ‘I thought maybe it was directed at me. I mean – I’ve never killed anyone purposely, but there’s people who’ve died because of mistakes I made, for sure.’

‘What – you thought it was a genuine message?’

‘Nah.’ She took another drag. ‘I don’t believe in any of that kind of thing. I just meant, I thought someone was taking a stab in the dark, trying to wind me up. It was definitely Flo, no question. I think she was pissed off because we were messing around at the beginning and decided to punish us. I did that tequila message. She probably knew.’

‘Do you think?’ I looked up at the clear sky. It was not black, but deep, navy blue, a colour so pure it made my eyes hurt. Far up a satellite was travelling towards the moon. I tried to think back, to Flo’s face as she read out the word, to her closed eyes and rapturous expression. ‘I don’t know. I’ve been standing out here trying to think it out, but I’m not sure it was her. She looked genuinely shocked. And she was the only person who really believed in the whole thing. I don’t think she’d have messed with the spirits by pushing it.’

‘So now you reckon it was real?’ There was scepticism in Nina’s voice. I shook my head.

‘No, I didn’t mean that. I think someone was pushing it. I’m just not sure it was her.’

‘So what – that leaves, Tom and Clare?’ Nina dropped her cigarette and ground it out in the snow with a hiss. ‘Really?’

‘I know. That’s partly what upset me. I think it was …’ I stopped, trying to disentangle my unease at the whole thing. ‘It wasn’t the message, it was the spite. Whatever you think, whoever you think did that, human or not, it was a horrible thing to say. Someone in that room wanted to fuck with our heads.’

‘And they did.’

We both turned to look back at the house. Through the window I could see Clare moving around the living room, rounding up glasses and picking nuts out of the carpet. Tom was nowhere to be seen – I guessed he had gone up. Flo was loading the dishwasher in the kitchen with a nervous, savage energy, crashing the glasses in so hard I was surprised they didn’t break.

I didn’t want to go back in. For a second, in spite of the snow, in spite of the sub-zero temperatures that were already making me shiver, I was seriously tempted to borrow Nina’s keys and sleep in the car.

‘Come on,’ Nina said at last. ‘We can’t stay out here all night. Let’s go back in, say good night and head straight up. Then first thing in the morning, we’re out of here. Right?’

‘All right.’

I followed her back through the kitchen door, and closed it behind us.

‘Lock it, please,’ Flo said shortly. She looked up from the dishwasher. Her face was bleary, her mascara halfway down her cheeks, her hair straggling down her face.

‘Flo, leave it,’ Nina said. ‘Please. I promise we’ll help in the morning.’

‘It’s fine,’ Flo said tightly. ‘I don’t need any help.’

‘All right!’ Nina threw up her hands. ‘You said it. See you at breakfast.’ She turned and then muttered, ‘Fucking martyr,’ as she left the room.

19

NINA FELL ASLEEP almost instantly, and lay there, sprawled out like a tanned daddy-long-legs, snoring away.

I lay awake, trying to go to sleep, but instead I was thinking about the evening and the strange little group Clare had gathered around her this weekend. I wanted to leave so badly it hurt – to be back at home, in my own bed, with my own things, in the blissful peace and quiet. Now I was counting down the hours, and listening to Nina’s soft snores and behind that to the silence of the house and the forest.

Not quite silence though. As I was drifting off there came a quiet creak and then a bang, not a loud one, just as if a door was banging in the wind.

I was almost drowsing when it came again, a long slow ekkkkkkk, and then a staccato clack.

The strange thing was, it sounded like it was inside the house.

I sat up, holding my breath, trying to hear the noise above Nina’s snores.

Ekkkkkkkk … clack!

This time there was no doubt. The sound was certainly not coming from outside the window, but floating up the stairwell. I got up, grabbed my dressing gown, and tiptoed to the door.

When I opened it, I almost screamed: a ghost-like figure was standing on the landing, bending over the bannisters.

I didn’t scream. But I must have made some kind of choked gasp because the figure turned and put her finger to her lips. It was Flo, dressed in a white nightgown with pink flowers, bleached pale in the moonlight.

‘You heard it too?’ I whispered.

She nodded. ‘Yes, I thought it might be a gate in the garden, but it’s not, it’s inside the house.’

There was a creak behind us and we both turned to see Clare coming out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes.

‘What is it?’

‘Shh,’ Flo whispered. ‘There’s something downstairs. Listen.’

We all paused.

Eeeeekkkkk … clack!

‘It’s just a door in the wind,’ Clare said, yawning. Flo shook her head, vehemently.

‘It’s inside the house. What wind could there be inside the house? Someone must have left a door open.’

‘Impossible,’ Clare said. ‘I checked them all.’

Flo put her hands over her throat looking suddenly frightened. ‘We’ve got to go down, haven’t we?’

‘Let’s wake Tom,’ Clare said. ‘He looks tall and menacing.’

She tiptoed into his room and I heard her whispering, ‘Tom! Tom! There’s a noise in the house.’

He came out, bleary-eyed and pale, and we all crept slowly down the stairs.

There was a door open, you could tell it as soon as we reached the ground floor. It was cold as ice and a breeze was blowing through the hallway, coming from the kitchen. Flo turned completely pale.

‘I’m getting the gun,’ she whispered, her voice so slight you could hardly hear.

‘I thought you said,’ Clare mouthed, ‘that it was loaded with blanks?’

‘It is,’ Flo whispered crossly, ‘but he won’t know that, will he?’ She jerked her head at the living-room door. ‘You first, Tom.’

‘Me?’ Tom said, in a horrified whisper, but he rolled his eyes and edged his head very quietly around the living-room door. Then he beckoned silently, and we all followed him, in a sort of relieved rush. The room was empty, moonlight flooding the pale carpet. Flo reached up above the mantelpiece and took down the gun. Her face was pale but determined.

‘You’re sure about the blanks?’ Clare asked again.

‘Completely sure. But if someone’s there it’ll give them a pretty good scare.’

‘If you’re holding the gun I’m going behind you,’ Tom hissed, ‘blanks or no blanks.’