But he can’t. He has to get up into the attic now more than before. And then he has to track down Niall and find out where the hell he has taken Ingrid on a morning like this and he has to make sure he can get Ingrid to understand exactly what is going on.

‘I’ll get a cup of tea in a wee bit,’ he tells his ma, doing his best not to show her just how rattled he is. ‘Just let me look up here first. Sure, don’t I have the ladder down and all?’

She nods. ‘Okay, son,’ she says.

She is a meek woman, he knows that. She wouldn’t argue.

‘You would tell me if you were in trouble, wouldn’t you?’ she asks.

He reassures her he’s fine. If only she knew it isn’t him she should be worrying about.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Ingrid

‘Jesus Christ, Niall. You scared the heart out of me,’ I swear, my heart thumping.

Treat it as normal. Don’t show him I’m scared.

I try to turn and pull myself loose from his grasp, but I lose my footing on the slick leaves and mud and start to slide down the hill. I feel his hands grab at my arms, squeezing so tightly I know he will leave a bruise.

Looking up, straight into his eyes, I know there is a pleading in my expression. He pulls my arms, drags me closer to him.

‘I did warn you,’ he says. ‘Something tells me you aren’t one for walking about in the woods much. There are so many hazards.’

‘I don’t have much call for it,’ I stutter, righting myself and trying to regain my composure.

It dawns on me that despite the caring person he has appeared to be, or how much I have felt a growing attraction to him, I don’t know him – and certainly not enough to trust him. I’m scared, I realise, and wish that I was anywhere else but here.

‘You have to be careful, you know,’ he says as he lets go of me.

I can’t speak, so I just watch as he starts to descend the hill sideways, one careful footstep after another. He reaches up to take my hand and help me towards him.

‘It’s just down here. Where we found her. We were walking towards Glenowen.’

His pace has slowed, his voice is low and I struggle to hear him over the howl of the wind, yet I don’t want to get closer to him. Not now.

‘I picked up a stick,’ he says. ‘I can’t really remember why. I might have been using it as a pretend rifle, or a lightsabre, or just using it to batter the leaves from the trees.’