‘Daniel and I got married a week later. And almost nine months after that I had a daughter whose name is Olivia. She arrived a few weeks early, but she was healthy and that was all that mattered. She is a delight and rather clever and next year she hopes to be a student at the university here in Edinburgh. She has inherited her father’s engineering brain and wishes to study mathematics.’

Ann took a good mouthful of tea, allowing it to wash the oats off her teeth before speaking. She was determined not to leap to conclusions. ‘And what has this to do with my brother? I mean, I am pleased that he and Daniel were such good friends. I think men need close friends more than they realise. But—’

Beatrice Sidcup raised her hand to put a stop to the questions. ‘Forgive me but this is difficult and I just need to keep going until the end before you ask me anything.’ She put her hand back in her lap. ‘Daniel and I have never had any other children. We do not know why. There is only Olivia. When I was at university I studied biology. I was interested in genetics; indeed it was my passion. Finlay had curly hair. Daniel and I both have straight hair. In the future someone may disprove what biologists now theorise but there was at the time a belief by some that it was impossible for two people who have straight hair to have a curly-haired child.’ She looked at Ann’s tightly corkscrewed hair which now reached just above her shoulders, unconstrained by combs or pins. ‘Daniel does not know this. He is an engineer, not a biologist.’ She took a sip of tea. ‘I am as sure as I can be that Olivia is Finlay’s daughter. And, when you meet her, you will see why I think this is the case.’

No one spoke.

Ann didn’t know what to say. If only Finlay were here, she thought, he would be able to confirm or deny this rather preposterous story. ‘If this is true, and of course I only have your word for it, did Finlay know?’