Back at the house, with arms full of bags, Caro handed the door key to Michaela. All of them were apprehensive of what might have happened while they were out. Michaela slotted the key in the door and the lock slid open. She pushed the door wide and stepped in.

The room was heavy with dust and late afternoon sun slanting in the windows. She scanned the room. Shadows clustered in the corners and under the furniture, but none moved or took on human shape. Michaela shifted the bags in her hands and wished she’d had the video camera before they’d left. Who knew what it would have picked up while the house was supposed to be empty?

She put her bags down on the table and smiled at Trisha who was stepping warily inside, a look of suspicion on her face. She stepped forward and took the groceries from her and carried them into the kitchen.

‘Everything seems to be all right in here,’ she said. She looked at Caro, who had gone into her bedroom to check.

Caro nodded. ‘Nothing’s moved or whatever,’ she said. ‘Thank God. I don’t think I could handle another shock like this morning.’

They’d stopped for lunch before shopping so Michaela helped Trisha put the groceries away.

‘It’s been a hellishly long day already,’ Trisha said.

‘I know what you mean,’ Michaela agreed. ‘I’ve been up since half past five or so.’ She yawned to prove it. ‘I might see if I can sleep for an hour. It’s going to be an even longer night.’

Trisha looked up at her in the dimness of the kitchen. ‘It’s going to be all right, isn’t it? I mean, this is totally different to the bastard up at the lake last year.’ Her voice was almost a whisper. ‘He might have been a bastard, but at least he was a human one. Not like this.’

Michaela wrapped her arms around Trisha. It felt good to hold her. No matter what, it felt good to be here, holding her like this.

‘I missed you so much,’ she told Trisha in a low voice. ‘Those postcards you sent were like torture.’

Trisha smiled. ‘They were meant to be.’

‘Hardly fair.’

Trisha brushed her lips against Michaela’s ear. ‘But they were effective weren’t they?’

‘Still; not fair.’

Trisha kissed her properly. ‘I missed you too. Now, how about that nap?’

‘I’ll nap if you will,’ Michaela said, searching for the warmth of Trisha’s skin.

‘Yeah, come on then.’

Caro was sitting on the couch with the television on. Trisha led Michaela past by the hand.

‘We’re going to get an hours sleep, okay? We’ll be just down the hall if you need us.’

Caro looked up and narrowed her eyes at them. ‘Just down the hall with a do not disturb sign on the door, you mean?’

Michaela answered. ‘You need us, we’ll be there. In fact, in an hour, come wake us up. We’ve got a lot to do tonight.’ She could tell Caro wasn’t thrilled to be left in the room on her own.

‘If we’ve so much to do, why are you wasting time sleeping then? If sleeping’s what we call it these days?’

‘It’s sleeping, Caro,’ Trisha said. ‘Michaela’s still not on US time- she’s been awake since early morning.’

‘Yeah, sure. Whatever.’ Caro turned back to the television.

Michaela kicked her boots off and lay down on the bed with relief. She really was tired. Trisha came and lay beside her, pulling Michaela’s arm around her. Michaela drew her closer and closed her eyes. Within minutes she was asleep.

Michaela dreamed she was back home on the orchard. She was walking down the driveway towards the mailbox, Mack following her, head down and tail between his legs. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he was just a dog, he couldn’t answer. Instead she opened the mailbox and looked in. it was dark inside the old metal box. She couldn’t see if there were any letters so she reached a hand in. The darkness was cool against her skin; cool and almost wet. She frowned and beside her Mack whimpered, his nose almost to the ground.

There was something in the mailbox. Michaela drew it out and the darkness inside the box let go of her hand almost reluctantly.

It was a postcard. Michaela gazed at the picture on it. It showed three women, and with a start, Michaela recognised herself and Trisha.  She squinted at the postcard trying to make out the third woman. She let out a slow breath. It was Caro, but the Caro in the picture looked different. Wearing some sort of long robe, for starters. Like some sort of priestess. She was wearing something around her neck, something that gleamed white like bone. Michaela peered closer trying to make it out, but gave up and turned the card over. The reverse was blank.

Mack whimpered again. Michaela bent dawn and examined the inside of the mailbox. Nothing but a dense darkness in there. She looked back at the picture and the sun beating down on her head was incongruous as she saw the picture had changed. Caro was gone, just a shadow as she walked out of the picture.

Michaela awoke, sweating, eyes flying open. She looked around the room and settled on Trisha, lying on her side, hair a tangle of black curls over her cheeks.

She moved closer to the sleeping woman and tried to remember the dream. Something about Caro, dressed strangely? She struggled to pick up the tattered remnants of the dream, convinced it was trying to tell her something. But all she had left was a bad taste in her mouth.