Page 108 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

Her eyes raked across the space, taking the mess in, calculating how long it would take to restore order. Water droplets still clung to the sides of the sink. A bottle stood proud of the others. Another with its glass stopper beside it. The shower screen was streaked, a damp towel left where it had fallen.

Sammy caught her reflection in the mirror; a flushed face, shoulders hunched. She held her own gaze, recognising that person staring blank eyed back at her; it was always like this when Chloe needed saving.

A buzz. Sharp, electronic, cutting through the silence.

Once. Twice. Again. Magnus returning early? Should she tell him?

Sammy swallowed and checked her watch. Ten to six, she let out a breath. It must be Nate. With his help, there was still time to fix this. Then give Magnus a watered-down version – keep those eyebrows level.

Footsteps thumped down the corridor. She rushed to the bedroom to meet him.

Nate came in fast, his chest heaving, and skidded to a stop his eyes sweeping the room. The stripped bed. The mound of linen on the floor.

He gave her a look. Not questioning. More . . . I warned you.

‘Chloe?’

Sammy closed her eyes and nodded.

‘You should tell Magnus,’ Nate said.

She opened her eyes, ‘I need . . .’ she stopped, clenched her fists at her sides and tried again. ‘I need a minute. To think how.’

‘Tell me you are not asking me to help you cover this up?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I am. I can’t let Magnus see what she’s done . . .’

Nate didn’t answer straight away. ‘Okay.’ He winced. ‘Fine.’ There was no reassurance in either word. He said it like a man accepting bad news. He glanced at the bed. ‘How long have we got?’

Sammy checked her watch. ‘Nine minutes . . .’ She looked at the second hand. ‘No, eight.’

He moved past her. ‘I’ll do the bed.’

‘No . . . you can’t make the bed,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s got to have hospital corners . . .’

‘Of course it does. I know how to do those.’

She peered at him. ‘How?’

‘I was taught . . . at school.’

At school? No time to ask. ‘Good. But change that pillowcase. Clean linen is all in the chest.’

Sammy ran into the bathroom, hands going straight to the bottles – turning them, spacing them out correctly. Labels forward, stoppers intact. The shower needed doing again. Cloth swiping the streaks away.

She reset the last bottle and rinsed the tooth mug – just in case; water ran cool over her hands, the sound too loud in the small space.

The thought came through. This was not working. Chloe. She didn’t do boundaries. Send her back to Swansea. How? Figure that out later.

The room came back together around them – the bedspread smooth, dirty linen shoved into a pillowcase.

For the second time a sharp electronic buzz cut through the silence.

Sammy’s head snapped towards the door. ‘Magnus.’

They were already moving. Sammy grabbed the pillowcase from Nate and turned for the stairs. She’d take the soiled linen and wash it at home, where Valerie couldn’t ‘help’. ‘Kitchen,’ she said.

They ran, footsteps quick over carpet, then wood, the house amplifying the sound, the buzzing noise still echoing faintly behind them.