‘Here, have some more wine,’ Claire said, topping up Jason’s glass. The evening was going well, and it was wonderful to see her brother and Greta, but by nine o’clock she was seriously considering calling the police. Initially, she’d convinced herself the message wasn’t meant for her, or that it was just kids playing a prank or a wrong number. She wondered, too, if she’d misheard it, although she could still remember every sick word. But denying or distorting facts wasn’t helping.

Greta was huge and glowing, just as Claire had imagined, and they’d discussed babies and birthing and even moved on to the subject of schools. She tried not to seem distracted but couldn’t focus. The voice had been unfamiliar and there’d definitely been background noise on the crackly message – a lawnmower or engine, perhaps? Dialling 1471 was no use because a friend had called after the message was left. She’d been the target of a malicious call and she had no idea why.

‘Claire, that was absolutely delicious. And they thoroughly approve.’ Greta put down her knife and fork and smoothed her hands over her large belly.

Everyone fell silent, grins spreading.

‘They?’ Claire stared first at Greta, then at Jason.

‘It’s twins,’ Jason announced. ‘We’ve known for a while but thought we’d wait to tell you face-to-face.’

Claire clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘That’s wonderful! I’m going to be an aunty twice over.’ It was exactly what she needed to help her forget.

‘It came as a bit of a shock,’ Greta said, laughing. ‘But we’re used to the idea now. In fact, we’re delighted.’

Claire could see that pregnancy suited Greta. Her blonde hair was glossy and thick, and her skin radiant even with a minimum of make-up. With her well-paid job in the city, she was able to afford maternity clothes that made it seem chic to have a fifty-inch waist.

‘That’s why they don’t want me to fly now. Twins often come early and I’m already thirty-five weeks. Chances are they’ll be born within the next two or three weeks.’

‘Perhaps I should bring home some scrubs and forceps,’ Callum said with a laugh.

‘Oh please have the babies here, Aunty Greta,’ Amy piped up. ‘They can sleep in my room. And make them girls. I want a little sister, but Mummy says I can’t have one.’ She pouted and smiled at the same time, squirming in her seat. A trick that usually won her what she wanted with her long lashes and rosebud lips.

‘I don’t know if they’re boys or girls,’ Greta told Amy. ‘And I don’t think you’d want them sleeping in your room, sweetie.’

‘I do so.’

‘Then you’ll have to put up with changing their nappies and feeding them all night long.’

‘Remember it well,’ Callum said, groaning.

Claire raised her eyebrows, though didn’t say anything. She was feeling the first flare of a headache. She’d only had two glasses of wine, but the damned message was still on her mind. For Jason’s sake at least, she wanted to enjoy the evening. One of the conditions of him coming was that it would just be the four adults plus Amy and Marcus tonight, to ease him back into being at home, even if he wasn’t staying at the farmhouse itself. He hadn’t been up there yet, and Claire knew not to press the point. Coming to Trevellin was a huge deal for him. She had to play by his rules for now.

‘We’re going to draw up a contract about nappies and feeds, aren’t we, darling?’ Greta looked directly at Jason and smiled. Then she pressed a hand on her belly and pulled a face. ‘Don’t worry. Just a Braxton Hicks.’ She relaxed again.

‘How much time are you taking off?’ Claire asked.

‘As little as possible. In my business, if you’re away from your desk too long, then you can expect some young hotshot to have taken it over when you get back. Probably two weeks. Less if I feel OK.’

Claire immediately sensed the tension between Jason and Greta. ‘Good for you,’ she said. ‘I don’t see why women should feel guilty about going back to work straight away if they want to. And it’s perfect really, isn’t it, Jase, with you being at home?’

‘Unemployed, you mean,’ he said, downing his wine.

‘How is the thespian business these days?’ Callum asked. Claire tried to nudge his foot but clipped the table leg instead.

‘I got a walk-on, walk-off part in a fizzy pop advert last week.’ Jason was deadpan.

‘That’s great,’ Claire said.

‘A forty-five second ad and my bit didn’t make the final cut.’

No one said anything, so Claire cleared away the plates, insisting Greta stay seated when she tried to help. Jason followed her out to the kitchen, carrying a couple of serving dishes.

‘That was a lovely meal, sis.’ They faced each other, unable to deliver the hug they both felt was in order because of the stack of crockery between them. ‘Sorry if I seemed a bit hacked off just then.’

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘Just dump those over there.’

He put the dishes by the sink.

‘Jase, someone left a really sick message for me today.’ She wrapped her arms around her body. ‘And I’ve had other calls too. I hear breathing and weird noises and then they just hang up.’

Jason frowned. ‘What did the message say? Can you play it to me?’ He looked concerned.

‘Stupidly, I deleted it,’ she said. ‘It was a man. His voice was strange, like he was growling. He swore a couple of times and said stuff I couldn’t understand. But then… then he said…’ Claire let out a little sob. ‘Then he said I know where she is…’ Claire covered her face.

‘Oh, Claire, that’s awful. Come here.’ Jason hugged her. ‘Did you call the police?’

‘No. Do you think I should?’

They gave each other a knowing look.

‘What did Callum say?’

‘I haven’t told him. I didn’t think there was any point worrying him.’

Jason nodded and made a thoughtful sound. ‘If you get another one, don’t delete it.’ He eased her away, looking her in the eye. ‘I can call the police for you if you like?’

Claire nodded. ‘Thanks, but they’ll probably say it was just a prank.’

In the early days, her parents had received a spate of calls ranging from fake bed and breakfast bookings made in Lenni’s name, psychic cranks claiming to know where her body had been dumped, to menacing whispers in the dead of night telling them they’d burn in hell for losing their little girl.

The police investigated the calls as much as resources would allow, but none of them helped find Lenni. In the end, Patrick didn’t bother to report them until they finally dwindled and burned themselves out. Until now.

‘Let’s try to put it out of our minds. Help me with dessert, would you?’

She put on a glove and slid the large dish from the oven while Jason carried the bowls. She headed for the dining room but stopped. ‘It’s really good to see you, Jase,’ she said, unflinching as the heat scorched through the glove.