‘What is it?’ yells Dad, reaching them. ‘What’s happened?’
Rosamund lifts her head, her face streaming with tears. ‘She’s gone!’ She pauses briefly. ‘Like last time. Like Lark. Elise has disappeared. And there’s so much blood.’ She gasps, as though her words have punctured her heart, before turning and racing back into the cottage.
We follow, and my eyes scan the room, falling on a Monopoly board, before moving on to Rosamund’s red, tearful face.
She takes a deep breath. ‘I left Elise reading in her room. I wanted to photograph the ruins. I asked her to come, but she wouldn’t. Oh God, why didn’t she come with me?’ She swallows, wipes tears from her cheeks. ‘I shouldn’t have left her on her own. Not after the message.’
‘Message?’
She pulls her phone from her pocket, fumbles shaking fingers across the screen. ‘Here,’ she says, passing it to me. I read the words:
Why bring your stepdaughter to Drummondale House? You know what happened to Lark.
‘Oh my God. Do you know who sent it?’ I say, passing her phone back to her, and she takes it with shaking hands.
‘I’ve no idea. It’s from an unknown sender.’
‘You mentioned blood?’ Finn says.
‘Yes. Upstairs in the shower room.’
He turns and bolts up the stairs two at a time. I follow, to see him crouched in front of a pool of congealing blood on the shower-room floor. He looks up at me. ‘Christ. What the hell’s happened here?’
I turn to see Rosamund and Dad behind me. ‘Call the police,’ I say, my voice quivering. ‘And an ambulance – Elise must be hurt somewhere.’ But I’m doubtful she’s even alive. Anyone losing this amount of blood …
Dad takes out his phone, and looks at the screen. ‘No signal … I’ll try outside.’ He descends the stairs, as though he’s glad to escape. Within moments the front door slams, and he’s gone.
Elise’s bedroom door stands open. It’s in darkness, but the landing light allows me to pick out the double bed, the ruffled quilt, and a book open like a butterfly on her bedside unit. Floor-length curtains are pulled closed across the window. Her pink holdall is propped against the wall.
I turn to see Rosamund behind me – so close. Shaking. Unable to keep her limbs still. She brushes her cheeks with her anorak sleeve, and I notice most of her make-up has been washed away by tears. She looks vulnerable – not something I thought I would ever see. ‘I need Neil,’ she says trancelike, her body trembling. ‘I need Neil.’
Finn is silent, his head flopped back against the wall, a torch in his hand. ‘My mum was here,’ he says. ‘This is hers.’
Two white towels on the floor are soaked in blood. He takes a deep breath. ‘She was running late, not back from her towel deliveries, and I was getting worried. It’s not like her. She’s always punctual.’
There are more red smears on the wall tiles, and on the landing carpet too, as though something – or someone – has been dragged across the floor. My stomach flips as I see the streaks of blood continue across the carpet and into Elise’s room.
I move gingerly into her room, and flick on the light. Finn and Rosamund are right behind me. A shudder runs through the length of my body, as we take in the streaks of blood that lead to the far wall.
Is there a body behind the bed? I want to know, but cannot move for fear.
Finn takes a gulp of air, walks across the room, and heads past the bed. He glances down at the floor, his mind clearly working the same as mine.
‘What is it?’ Rosamund shrieks.
‘Finn?’ I say through my fingers.
He looks up, white with anguish, and shakes his head. ‘There’s nothing here.’
Rosamund and I grab our chests in tandem, and my heart thumps under my fingers. ‘Let’s get some tea,’ I say, turning to leave the room. It’s what they always say on TV, when everything goes tragically wrong. ‘We can wait downstairs for Dad, and hopefully the police will get to us soon.’
Rosamund nods. ‘This is what happened a year ago, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘What if it’s the same person? What if they’ve returned?’
‘It’s different,’ I say, leading the way downstairs.
‘How is it different, Amelia?’ Rosamund says. ‘The disappearance of a teenage girl, the blood.’ She buries her head in her hands.
I wander into the kitchen, fill the kettle, and flick it on.
It’s as it reaches boiling point the power goes off once more, and the cottage plunges into darkness.
Chapter 25
Present Day
Amelia
My eyes, now adjusted to the sudden loss of light, are drawn to the window. The blind is up, and the full moon filters through snow-heavy trees that bend and sway in the wind. A chill runs down my spine. I’m petrified.
I turn, and make my way towards the lounge, gripping the worktops as I go. The dying embers in the wood burner cast a dim glow over the lounge. Rosamund is kneeling next to the coffee table, lighting candles with a shaking hand. And as the wicks flicker and burn I watch Finn switching his mother’s torch on and off.
Suddenly he jumps to his feet, agitated. ‘We need to look for them. Now.’
‘Finn’s right,’ Rosamund says, rising too. ‘Surely they can’t be far. Especially if one of them is injured.’ The words catch in her throat.
‘But it doesn’t make sense. If they left through the front door, there would be a trail of blood, wouldn’t there?’ My words make me shudder. There’s no blood down here or on the stairs. ‘We should check upstairs again before you go outside. It’s freezing out there, Rosamund. Think of your baby.’
Finn opens the front door, and within seconds
