There was no quick solution, she just had to walk the next bit and hope it didn’t become impassable. What was really worrying her was getting away quickly if Jago didn’t want to see her. She didn’t fancy running; it would look desperate.

She put her water and sandwiches into her rucksack but left the rest of the food that Gilly had pressed on her. Then she put the map on top, just in case. She locked the car and set off up the road, past the barriers.

If she hadn’t been fretting about what her reception might be, or worried that she might get lost, she’d have enjoyed the walk. The world had a newly washed feel to it after all the rain and although it was muddy she was wearing sturdy trainers which were coping OK.

The scenery seemed to get lovelier with every step but the road got steeper and it seemed to take a long time before she reached the turn-off she was aiming for. She had bundled her hair on top of her head to keep it off her neck but there was still sweat running down her spine and the minimal amount of make-up she had put on that morning had long gone.

She had a drink and then set off again, acutely conscious of how far she’d have to walk back if she’d made a mistake – a mistake in her direction or a mistake in coming at all.

The road trailed through fields and small woods and the occasional cluster of farm buildings. It was lovely but it was long and Helena’s confidence wavered. Should she turn back now? She’d been going for nearly an hour. Say half an hour back to the car (it would be quicker going downhill), but it would still be at least two hours to get back to her mother’s house, probably three or four.

Then she heard a lark singing in one of the nearby fields. The sound of it soaring up and up and up filled her with hope. She would go on until she reached the address James had given her. She would face this dilemma head on.

She was seriously sweating, out of breath and tired when she finally looked up and saw a small cottage further up the lane. She knew it was the right one because it had Jago’s pickup parked outside it.

She was here; she had arrived. Now all she had to do was walk up to the front door and knock. But at that moment she would have preferred to walk over broken glass.