Boyd drove in silence. Lottie didn’t know what to feel, so she just numbed herself into nothingness and let the memories of the evening slip uneasily over her like a shroud. No good was going to come of this, she could feel it in her blood.

Kirby was standing at the entrance to the site. Two trucks were there, fire personnel hosing down the dying blaze.

Jumping from the car almost before Boyd had brought it to a halt, she said, ‘I can’t believe this, Kirby. I hope Bridie and her family aren’t in there.’

‘We’ve evacuated all the residents but there’s no sign of the McWards.’

‘Has no one seen them? Where is everyone? Can I talk to them?’

‘They’ve been taken to the nursing home around the corner. The staff there are providing blankets and hot tea. Everyone’s in shock. The faces on the poor kids. This is bad, boss, very bad.’

‘You think the McWards are in there?’

‘No idea yet. But they’re not among the residents escorted out. I was here almost as soon as the fire crews.’

‘How did you manage that?’

‘I’ve a couple of informants who live here. One of them gave me a call. Myself and two uniforms helped everyone to escape while the fire crews got to work.’

‘So either the McWards weren’t at home or they were in that …’ She took a step forward and was halted by the chief fire officer.

‘Sorry, but you’ll have to wait until it’s safe to enter. There are caravans and gas cylinders around. Everything is combustible in this heat.’

Lottie nodded and turned to Boyd. He gripped her elbow to lead her away. She shrugged off his concern.

‘Take me back to get my car and then return here to Kirby. Erect a crime-scene cordon until we establish what the hell happened. Contact me if you find the McWards and call as soon as it’s safe to enter the site.’

The chief fire officer overheard her. ‘It’ll be morning before we can deem it safe.’

‘All the same,’ Lottie said. ‘Kirby and Boyd, you coordinate the uniforms and then interview the survivors. I want to know where the McWards are, if they’re not already dead.’

---

Even though it was after three a.m., the lights were still on in her house. Lottie went into the kitchen, but it was empty. She automatically took clothes, mostly belonging to Louis, from the washing machine and filled the dryer. Still only the one text from Katie. Maybe Chloe had heard from her.

At the top of the stairs, she noticed light filtering out from under Sean’s door. She stuck her head inside. He didn’t hear her. A massive set of headphones covered his ears and he was gesticulating wildly at a screen with a remote control. Opening her mouth to tell him to get into bed, she stopped and decided to let him off for one night. There was no school for a week. He’d be grand.

Outside Chloe’s door, she hesitated. Her daughter was probably asleep and she didn’t want to wake her, but a nerve tingled at the base of her skull, so she opened the door.

Chloe was lying in bed, propped up with pillows, her face lit by the screen of the phone in her hand. The creak of the door had alerted her and she jumped, dropping her phone. The room was plunged into darkness. Lottie flicked on the light switch.

‘I thought you were out for the night,’ Chloe said. ‘Working. Or something. Oh, or maybe you were fucking Boyd.’

‘Chloe!’ Lottie reeled back on her heels from the venom in her daughter’s voice. How the hell was she going to handle this? Carefully. Very carefully. ‘We just went for a meal.’

‘A very long meal, including alcohol from what I can smell.’

‘Chloe, there’s no need for that.’

‘I think there’s every need. You’ve been drinking. Jesus, have we to go through all this again?’

‘Please. I only had the one glass.’ Why was she explaining? But she knew her drinking had caused her children suffering in the past. Dear God, she didn’t want to go back there again.

‘Drinking with Boyd?’ Chloe curled up her lip. ‘And I thought he was nice. Just shows what I know.’

‘It’s nothing to do with him.’ Lottie let her arms fall limply by her sides. Nothing good could come of sleeping with Boyd. The fire was a warning. Leave him alone, she told herself, or you’ll succeed in dragging him down to your level. She had no idea how to explain things to her seventeen-year-old daughter, so she didn’t even try.

She said, ‘I have to work again in the morning, but ring me any time you want to talk. Please.’

Chloe pulled the duvet to her chin and eyed her. ‘So how was Boyd in bed?’

‘Goodnight, Chloe.’ Lottie switched off the light.

---

He had left the light on. His ‘treat’. Then he’d sat on the small wooden chair, staring at her. She had no idea how long he stayed there before he rose and slowly traced a line down her body with his finger. She shuddered and cringed, but he had tied her down and she couldn’t fight back.

She must have passed out, because when she awoke, he was gone and she was untied. The light was still on and the first thing her eyes focused on were the bones. Laid out on the bench in the form of a skeleton. Fear obstructed her throat and congested her lungs.

Finding the bottle of water and the sandwich he’d left for her, she wondered if she should ration them in case he didn’t come back. But he would be back. She knew that as surely as she knew the bones on the bench were human. She knew it from the pain he’d left between her legs. Bile swirled in her stomach.

Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath of stagnant air. When she opened them again, she scanned her surroundings. Then she noticed something she hadn’t spotted before. Paintings. Tiny watercolours. Pinned to the wall behind her.

She got up from the bed and gingerly tested the floor with her bare feet. It was cold to the touch. She felt weak from being cooped up. Two steps and she was beside the wall where they hung, faded and grey. Screwing up her eyes, she tried to make out the initials in the corner of one of them. But they were smudged. Even the subject matter was hard to decipher. Once more her eyes were drawn downwards to the bones that had haunted her all day.

Bones that were so small they could only belong to a baby.