It was Maggie who drove to pick her up from the village, with Jason beside her in the camper. She pulled up alongside the kerb and got out, Claire virtually falling into Maggie’s arms outside the village shop.

‘I’m so sorry, Mags. This is such a lousy start to the week.’ She’d charged down to the village store fifteen minutes ago, begging to use the shop owner’s phone so someone could fetch her. She’d tried Callum’s number first, but there’d been no reply.

‘What on earth happened, Claire?’ Jason said, prising his sister from Maggie’s arms. ‘Get in the van and tell us.’

Grateful to be sitting, Claire hugged herself, rocking gently, telling them how scared she’d been without actually explaining what had happened. Her words were muddled and didn’t make much sense.

Jason touched her shoulder. There was blood on her blouse.

‘Someone was in the house, I swear, though I didn’t see them. They locked me inside and stole my keys, bag and phone.’

‘God, that’s terrible,’ Maggie said, gripping her hands. ‘We should call the police.’

‘No, please… don’t,’ Claire said. ‘Jeff won’t be happy if there’s a story in the local papers about a viewing gone wrong. It’ll be bad for our reputation.’

‘But someone stole your stuff,’ Maggie said, eyeing Jason. ‘You need to report it.’

‘I can cancel my cards and my phone’s insured. Really, I just want to forget it.’

‘We should go back to the cottage,’ Jason said. ‘At least see about your car.’

Claire nodded tentatively. ‘Fine, but I’m not going inside.’

‘You don’t have to,’ Jason replied. ‘I will.’

---

‘It’s in a bad state,’ Maggie said, steering the van onto the overgrown driveway.

‘We’ve had it on our books ages,’ Claire replied. ‘It reminds me of the old cottage on the farm.’ She stopped herself from saying more, though she’d already seen the hurt look on Jason’s face, knowing it was a trigger for him. She still wasn’t thinking clearly.

‘It’s similar indeed,’ Jason said. ‘We spent hours playing up at the farm cottage as kids, do you remember?’ Claire knew he was trying to sound light about it.

‘I remember!’ Maggie chipped in, wrapping a cardigan around Claire. She was shivering. ‘We used to make up murder mysteries, scaring ourselves witless.’

The little cottage was built on Trevellin’s eastern boundary during the late eighteen hundreds. It was a typical workers’ dwelling, common to the area. Surrounded by a thicket of trees, they’d believed their father when he once told them Hansel and Gretel lived there, and it remained their playhouse until he banned them from it when half the roof caved in. It was way beyond any repairs Patrick could tackle. Like the barns on the farm, it had since just sat there, unloved and unneeded, for years.

Claire reckoned it would fetch a good price if sold separately to the farm with an acre or so of land. It was ripe for development. But no one would ever forget that it was the source of Jason’s resentment, the catalyst for the argument that drove a wedge between him and their father.

‘I thought you said you’d been locked in?’ Maggie said, pointing at the front door. It was wide open.

Claire leant forward on the dashboard. ‘But… I don’t understand.’ She saw the look that Jason shot Maggie. ‘I promise you, it was locked when I was inside. That’s why I smashed the window.’

Jason reached forward and touched his sister’s arm. ‘We believe you,’ he said. ‘Wait here while I go and check the place over.’ They all got out of the van, though Claire refused to take a single step away from it.

‘Be careful,’ she called out as Maggie and Jason walked off together. The sight of the cottage made her feel sick and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to do another viewing there, not alone anyway.

Claire shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting as Jason showed something to Maggie by the front door. Then they both looked back at Claire. She watched as they went around the side of the cottage where she’d parked her car. It was something Jeff had taught her long ago – not to detract from a property’s frontage with an agency vehicle, maximising its kerb appeal. And Galen Cottage needed all the help it could get.

A few minutes later, Jason and Maggie came back into sight. Maggie returned to the camper while Jason went into the cottage. ‘Why don’t you sit back in the van again? You look pale.’

‘I don’t need to sit down,’ Claire said. ‘Sorry, Mags. I didn’t mean to snap. The day hasn’t got off to a great start.’

Maggie took her by the shoulders. ‘It’s fine. I’m your oldest friend.’

As kids, they’d trusted each other implicitly, looking out for each other. But as they’d hit their teens, Claire wondered if she’d sensed a tinge of jealousy from Maggie. So when a few of her things had gone missing – a couple of CDs, some money, bits of cheap jewellery – she decided not to say anything. Even though she was convinced Maggie was responsible.

‘Thanks, Mags,’ Claire said, closing her eyes for a moment. ‘I’m just a bit wrung out.’

‘Do you remember that time at the circus?’ It was obvious she was trying to distract Claire.

‘Dad the lion tamer?’

‘Yeah. I was so damned jealous that your dad got picked to go in the ring. Mine didn’t even go to the show – he was probably pissed and passed out somewhere. Do you remember what you said to me when the lion tamer asked your dad if he had any children in the audience?’

Claire did remember, but kept quiet.

‘You whispered, “Put your hand up, Maggie. Pretend it’s you.”’

‘Did I?’ She laughed.

‘So I stuck my arm in the air and the lion tamer plucked me out of the audience when it should have been you.’ Maggie fidgeted with her fingers. ‘For those few minutes in the circus ring, I pretended that he was my real dad. It was magical.’ The two women stared at each other for a moment. ‘So, thanks, Claire. It meant a lot.’

Claire touched her arm. ‘Look, Jason’s coming back.’

‘All seems fine in there,’ he said, holding up a big key. ‘It was still in the lock. I made sure there was no one lurking inside.’ He shot another quick glance at Maggie. ‘And we found these on the ground by your car.’ He held up her car keys.

‘I don’t under—’

‘The good news is that your handbag is in the boot, along with your phone.’

‘But… but…’ Claire touched her forehead. That wasn’t possible. That wasn’t where she left them, was it?

‘They shouldn’t have sent you to do a viewing out here alone,’ Maggie said. ‘It’s so remote. If you’re feeling stressed, things can blow out of proportion and—’

‘I’m not stressed,’ Claire said, marching barefoot across the drive. She went up to her car, yanking on the handle, but Jason had locked it. Peering through the window, she saw that her big leather bag was now on the passenger seat. Jason had also plugged in her phone to charge.

She leant back against the car for a moment, feeling dizzy, before marching up to the front window, knowing she looked and sounded crazy. Then she beckoned them over, pointing to her shoes lying in the earth beneath the broken window. ‘See? I had to smash my way out with a poker. There was an intruder. I was locked in!’ She was close to tears now. ‘OK,’ she said finally, letting out a big sigh. ‘You’re probably right. Maybe a cat or a bird got trapped in the house, and then I accidentally locked myself inside.’

‘It’s not that we don’t believe you—’

‘Just give me my car keys, Jase. Let’s go home.’

‘I’ll drive your car,’ he said, picking up her shoes. Claire didn’t argue. On the way back she phoned Jeff, staring out of the passenger window, watching as the narrow lanes whipped by. Jeff told her how well his chapel viewing had gone.

‘Oh, and did you get my message earlier?’ he added.

‘What message?’ Claire felt the seat belt tighten around her chest.

‘Mr Barrett called to cancel moments after you’d left the office. What a time-waster he turned out to be.’