‘No, listen.’ She appealed to Mariana. ‘Let’s check the folly – just in case. Where I saw him hide the knife. And if we don’t find it, then … we go to London, okay?’

Before Mariana could reply, the professor forestalled her.

‘Good God,’ said Clarissa. ‘Are you trying to get yourselves killed?’

‘No.’ Zoe shook her head. ‘The murders always happen at night – we still have a few hours.’ She glanced out of the window, and gave Mariana a hopeful look. ‘And it’s stopped raining. It’s brightening up.’

‘Not yet,’ Mariana said, looking outside. ‘But it will.’ She thought for a second. ‘Go and have a shower, get out of those wet clothes. And I’ll meet you in your room in twenty minutes.’

‘Okay.’ Zoe nodded, looking pleased.

Mariana watched her gather her things. ‘Zoe – please be careful.’

Zoe nodded, and left the room. The moment the door closed, Clarissa turned on Mariana. She looked worried. ‘Mariana, I must protest. It’s most unsafe for either of you to be venturing to the river like this—’

Mariana shook her head. ‘I’ve no intention of letting Zoe go anywhere near the river. I’ll make her pack a few things, and we’ll leave right away. We’ll go to London, like you said.’

‘Thank heavens.’ Clarissa looked relieved. ‘That’s the right decision.’

‘But listen carefully. If anything happens to me – I want you to go to the police, okay? You must tell them all of this – everything that Zoe said. Understand?’

Clarissa nodded. She looked deeply unhappy. ‘I wish you two would go to the police right now.’

‘Zoe’s right – there’s no point. Inspector Sangha won’t even listen to me. But he’ll listen to you.’

Clarissa didn’t say anything. She just sighed and stared into the fire.

‘I’ll call you from London,’ Mariana said.

No response. Clarissa didn’t even seem to hear her.

Mariana felt disappointed. She had expected more. She expected Clarissa to be a tower of strength – but clearly this had all been too much for her. Clarissa seemed to have aged somehow; she seemed shrunken, small and frail.

She wouldn’t be any use, Mariana realised. Whatever terrors she and Zoe had ahead, they’d have to face them alone.

Mariana gently kissed the professor goodbye on the cheek. Then she left her by the fire.

4

As Mariana made her way to Zoe’s room across the courtyard, she kept her mind on practicalities. They would pack quickly, and then, without being seen, they would slip out of the college, through the back gate. A cab to the station; the train to King’s Cross. And then – and her heart swelled at the thought of it – they would be home, safe and sound in the little yellow house.

She climbed the stone steps to Zoe’s room. The room was empty; she must still be in the shower block downstairs.

And then Mariana’s phone rang. It was Fred.

She hesitated, but answered. ‘Hello?’

‘Mariana, it’s me.’ Fred sounded anxious. ‘I need to talk to you. It’s important.’

‘Now isn’t a good time. I think we said everything last night.’

‘This isn’t about last night. Listen to me, carefully. I mean it. I had a premonition – about you.’

‘Fred, I don’t have time—’

‘I know you don’t believe it – but it’s true. You’re in serious danger. Right now, this second. Wherever you are – get the hell out of there. Go. Run—’

Mariana hung up, feeling exasperated and very angry. She had enough to worry about without Fred’s nonsense. She had already been feeling anxious – now she felt much worse.

What was keeping Zoe?

As Mariana waited, she paced the room restlessly. Her eyes drifted around, touching upon Zoe’s belongings: a baby picture in a silver frame; a photo of Zoe as a bridesmaid at Mariana’s wedding; various lucky charms and trinkets, stones and crystals collected on holidays abroad; other childhood mementos Zoe had been carrying around since she was a little girl – such as old, battered Zebra, perched precariously on her pillow.

Mariana felt incredibly moved by this jumble of junk. She had a sudden memory of Zoe as a small child, kneeling against the bed, hands clasped in prayer. God bless Mariana, God bless Sebastian, God bless Grandfather, God bless Zebra – and so on, including people whose names she didn’t even know, like the unhappy woman at the bus stop, or the man in the bookshop with the cold. Mariana would watch this childish ritual fondly, but not for one moment did she ever believe in what Zoe was doing. Mariana didn’t believe in a God who could be reached so easily – or whose merciless heart would be swayed by the prayers of a little girl.

But now, suddenly, she felt her knees giving way – buckling, as if pushed from behind by some unseen force. She sank to the floor, clasping her hands together – and bowed her head in prayer.

But Mariana didn’t pray to God, or Jesus, or even to Sebastian.

She prayed to a handful of dirty, weather-beaten stone columns on a hill, against a brilliant, birdless sky.

She prayed to the goddess.

‘Forgive me,’ she whispered. ‘Whatever it is I did – whatever it is I have done – to offend you. You took Sebastian. That’s enough. I beg you – don’t take Zoe. Please – I won’t let you. I—’

She stopped, suddenly self-conscious, embarrassed at the words coming out of her mouth. She felt more than a little crazy – like a demented child bargaining with the universe.

And yet, on some very deep level, Mariana was aware that, at long last, she had reached the moment where all of this had been leading: her much delayed but inevitable confrontation – her reckoning – with the Maiden.

Mariana slowly pulled herself to her feet.

And Zebra toppled off the pillow, fell off the bed, and landed on the floor.

Mariana picked up the toy and repositioned it on the pillow. As she did so, she noticed that the seam across Zebra’s belly had come loose; three stitches were missing. And something was poking out from inside the stuffing.

Mariana hesitated – then, without quite knowing what she was doing, she pulled it out. She looked at it. It was some paper, folded and refolded, concealed in the body of the stuffed toy.

Mariana stared at it. She felt disloyal, but also compelled to know what it was. She had to know.

She carefully unfolded it – and it opened out into several pages of notepaper. It looked like a typed letter of some kind.

Mariana sat down on the bed.

And she began to read.

5

And then, one day, my mother left.

I don’t remember the exact moment she went, or the final goodbye, but there must have been one. I don’t remember my father there either – he must have been in the fields when she made her escape.

She never did send for me, you know, in the end. I never saw her again, in fact.

That night she left, I went upstairs to my room, and sat at my little desk – I wrote for hours in my journal. When I finished, I didn’t read what I had written.

And I never wrote in that journal again. I put it in a box and hid it away with other things I wanted to forget.

But today, I took it out for the first time, and read it – all of it.

Well, almost all …

You see, there are two pages missing.

Two pages torn out.

They were destroyed because they were dangerous. Why? Because they told a different story.

That’s okay, I guess. Every story can stand a little revision.

I wish I could revise the next few years at the farm – revise them, or forget them.

The pain, the fear, the humiliation – every day, I was more determined to escape. One day, I’ll get away. I’ll be free. I’ll be safe. I’ll be happy. I’ll be loved.

I’d repeat this to myself, again and again, under the covers at night. It became my mantra in times of trouble. More than that, it became my vocation.

It led me to you.

I never thought I was capable – of love, I mean. I only knew hate. I’m so afraid I’ll hate you too, one day. But before I ever hurt you, I will turn the knife on myself, and plunge it deep into my heart.

I love you, Zoe.

That’s why I’m writing this.

I want you to see me as I am. And then? You’ll forgive me, won’t you? Kiss all my wounds and make them better. You are my destiny, you know that, don’t you? Maybe you don’t believe it yet. But I’ve known from the start. I had a premonition – from the very first second I saw you, I knew.

You were so shy at first, so mistrustful. I had to slowly tease your love out of you. But I’m nothing if not patient.

We will be together, I promise, one day, once my plan is complete. My brilliant, beautiful idea.

I must warn you, it involves blood – and sacrifice.

I’ll explain, when we are alone. Until then, have faith.

Yours,

forever

X

6

Mariana lowered the letter to her lap.

She stared at it.

She was finding it hard to think – hard to breathe; as if she had been winded, punched repeatedly in the stomach. She didn’t understand what she had read. What did it mean, this monstrous document?