Iman put her hand on Salma’s arm. ‘We can walk the six miles, Salma. It’s not a problem. Let’s do it.’

‘I’m not walking six miles,’ said Moni. ‘Six miles there and back. It’s too much.’

Iman started arguing in Arabic and Mullin watched her with amusement. His presence was upsetting Moni even more than Iman’s inconsiderate insistence. She caught him looking at her with contempt as if he knew she was slow and cumbersome. She belonged to cities and cars, not to nature and fresh air.

Salma was weighing the situation. She knew that Iman was deliberately supporting her, but at the same time Moni was saying the truth. Six miles were a lot longer than four. It would be twelve in total not eight. Challenging but doable for her and Iman; too much to ask of Moni.

‘Is there a time of day when the stalking stops?’ she asked Mullin. Perhaps there could be a window when she would be allowed to drive the two miles up into the estate.

‘Sunday,’ he said. ‘Nae stalkin on Sundays.’

The three women looked at each other. Saturday was the day they were meant to leave the loch and go home. ‘We can stay extra,’ said Moni. ‘I’m happy to pay for the extra night.’

‘It would need to be two,’ said Iman. ‘Saturday night and Sunday night.’

‘Fine,’ said Moni. ‘If Salma doesn’t need to go back to work by Monday, I can phone the nursing home and tell them I’ll pick up Adam a day later.’

‘I can take Monday off,’ said Salma. Hope was coursing through her again. And relief too.

Iman walked back to the cottage while Salma and Moni went to the monastery where the signal was stronger so they could make the necessary phone calls. Salma texted David to update him. Iman had no one to message, no one who cared whether she returned to town on Saturday or Monday. The gap that Ibrahim had left, who or what would fill it? Sometimes she fantasised about winning him back. But even if he did take her back, she would never feel safe with him again. He had showed her that she was easily disposable, her body and silly possessions.

When Moni and Salma returned to the cottage, they found Iman dressed in floating turquoise. She demanded that Salma take her out in a boat. She was a mermaid, she said, and mermaids need water.

Moni, still annoyed with Iman, took the opportunity to criticise her Ariel costume, the flimsy blouse revealing the purple seashell bikini top. ‘You can’t go out like this!’

‘I can, and I will.’ She was in a rebellious mood. ‘You can’t stop me.’

‘No one will see her,’ promised Salma. ‘There really aren’t that many people around and she can take her coat with her just in case. Let’s go.’

They climbed into the boat. Salma was the one who rowed. It gave her pleasure to scoop the water with the oars, to push the combined weight of them forward. The loch at this end was narrow, almost like a river, but the water was still except when the wind caused the surface to ruffle. Tree branches bowed over the water. Mountains rose on either side, the close ones grassy, the ones further away brownish, the ones even further away grey and misty as if they were shadows.