‘How the bugger did they manage that?’ asked Gareth.

Where the bonfire had blazed not seconds ago there was now a great, gaping hole in the ground. The fire had become a pit filled with flames. Coloured sparks from fireworks shot out in every direction and Harry could still make out several human-shaped forms.

‘I think we’ve just glimpsed the gateway to hell,’ said Gareth.

Harry watched as the men who had held the effigies turned from the fire at last, were handed spades from onlookers and began to shovel waiting piles of earth on to the fire. Others joined in, some using spades, others their bare hands.

‘They built the fire over a pit,’ said Gareth. ‘They must have put some sort of floor over the top and then built the fire on it. When the foundation burned through the whole thing collapsed.’

‘They’re burying the dead,’ said Evi. Harry turned, startled. She was beside him on the fence. For a moment he wondered how she’d managed it and then realized that a woman who could mount a horse could probably climb a fence. ‘Look what they’re doing, throwing earth on to the bones. It’s what we do at a burial.’

‘Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,’ said Gareth. ‘What do you think, Doc?’

Evi seemed to think about it for a second. ‘Personally,’ she said, ‘I’m glad it was no worse.’

T HE BLINDS IN THE WINDOW WERE STILL OPEN. THAT DIDN ’ T happen much any more. Normally Tom closed them even before it got properly dark. The whole family, apart from Millie, were in the kitchen. The father stood closest to the window, talking to the man who looked after the church. At the table sat a young woman with dark hair and large eyes. They were drinking and talking. They looked happy. Where was Millie?

Tom had climbed up on to the kitchen counter. He was staring out at the darkness. Then he reached up and pulled down the string that lowered the blind. The scene disappeared.

Had they locked the door?

‘I CAN’T BELIEVE JENNY DIDN’T WARN ME ABOUT THAT,’ SAID Alice.

‘Maybe she didn’t want to spoil the surprise,’ said Gareth. ‘Tom, will you get down from there? What will you have, Evi?’

Gareth turned away from his eldest son to look at Evi, which gave Tom just enough time to lower the blind on the kitchen window. He noticed that Evi was watching him as he went to the other window, climbed up on to the worktop and did the same thing. Had he checked that the front door was locked?

‘So can we have a bone man next year?’ Joe asked, for what felt like the tenth time that evening. Joe thought that if he asked a question often enough then sooner or later he’d get the answer he wanted. Frequently, it worked.

‘Not if it means your father gets his testicles roasted,’ said Alice, as Joe dissolved into giggles. He couldn’t hear that word without cracking up. ‘I think there must be a lot of singed eyebrows in Heptonclough tonight.’

‘Not to mention other parts,’ said Harry. ‘Thanks, mate.’ He took a lager from Tom’s dad and opened it, drinking straight from the can.

‘Come on, Joe,’ said Alice, ‘it’s time for you to go up. Tom, you’ve got fifteen minutes.’

‘I want to look at my photographs first,’ Tom said.

‘Did you get any good ones?’ asked Evi.

A sudden thought struck Tom. ‘I think so,’ he said. ‘You can come and look at them with me if you want.’

Tom’s mum turned round in the doorway. ‘Tom, sweetheart…’ she started.

‘Thanks,’ said Evi. ‘I’d like to. If that’s OK, Alice?’

‘Of course,’ said Alice. ‘But the computer’s upstairs, is that all right?’

‘Yup,’ said Evi, standing up. Her stick had been leaning against the ironing-board cupboard. She took hold of it and started to follow Tom out of the room.

‘Are you…’ began Harry.

‘Yes,’ said Evi, looking at him with what Tom guessed was supposed to be a glare, but honestly, if she thought that was scary, she should take a few lessons from his mum.

Tom ran up the stairs with Evi following behind. He could hear the soft tap of her stick on each step. By the time he reached the top he could hear her breathing. His mum had told him that Evi was probably in pain a lot of the time and that it was very brave of her not to show it or complain. Tom supposed his mother was right. He could never keep quiet when he’d hurt himself and as for Joe – well, the whole world knew about it.

He led the way along the landing to his parents’ room, where the computer was kept, and they both sat down. Tom connected the camera to the hard drive and uploaded the photographs he’d taken that evening. He hadn’t had chance to look at any of them himself yet.

‘These are ones I took of the bone men when they were still in the abbey,’ he said. Downstairs, Harry laughed. Evi’s head twisted to face the door, then turned back to Tom again.

‘They’re good,’ she said. ‘I like the way you can see the moon just starting to come up in that one. And the colours in those three are great. You’ve really captured the sunset well.’

Tom knew she was buttering him up, but it was still nice to hear. The pictures were good, his mum often said he’d got her eye for composition, but it wasn’t the shots of the abbey he needed Evi to see. He’d brought her upstairs to show her…

‘Who’s this?’ said Evi.

Feeling his heart start to beat faster, Tom clicked on the picture Evi was looking at and enlarged it. There it was. Evidence. The little girl that nobody believed in, captured on camera. The trouble was…

‘Is it Joe?’ asked Evi. ‘No, it’s bigger than Joe. Another friend?’

… the figure in the photograph, skulking behind one of the taller headstones, just wasn’t clear enough. Knowing who it was, Tom could just about make out the strange old-fashioned dress she’d been wearing and her long hair, but to someone seeing this picture for the first time, it could be anyone. Tom closed the shot down and pulled up the next one.

He’d stayed in his position in the yew tree for nearly twenty minutes, getting cold and stiff, and had been about to give up when she’d appeared. He’d watched her enter the churchyard down at the bottom end and make her way up. She moved fast and she came silently. She’d stopped when she was three feet away from the wall and had crouched there, watching their house. Hardly daring to breathe, Tom had taken one photograph after another.

‘There she is again,’ said Evi. ‘Is it a she? Not sure. That could be hair, could be grass, hard to tell. Oh look, there again. These are good, Tom,’ she said, giving him a sideways glance. ‘Shadowy figure in the graveyard, very atmospheric. Oh look, there’s another one.’

Downstairs, someone opened the front door. ‘Someone’s come in,’ he said. ‘I need to get Dad.’

‘Tom, what’s the matter?’ said Evi in alarm. ‘Where are you…?’

Tom jumped to his feet and crossed the room.

‘Tom,’ called Evi, ‘it probably was your dad. Or Harry, getting something from the car. Why are you…?’

Tom wasn’t hanging around to listen to whatever Evi had to say to him. Knowing it was rude, but that some things are just more important, he ran across the landing to the top of the stairs. He was right, the front door was about three inches open. He hadn’t checked it, why hadn’t he checked it? He ran down, hearing a faint tap on the landing behind him. At the bottom he pushed the door shut and locked it.

Was she inside even now? Tom shot into the dining room. No one under the table. The curtains. Holding his breath and standing at arm’s length, he tugged them apart. The window ledge was empty. She couldn’t have gone into the kitchen, his dad and Harry were there. There hadn’t been time for her to go upstairs. If she was in the house, she’d be in the living room.

‘Tom!’ Evi had reached the top of the stairs. He pretended he hadn’t heard her and pushed open the living-room door.