Dougie looked at his watch. Another twenty minutes and he’d have to get this last load of birders back to the airstrip. One lot had already gone. They were all experiencing the post-tick high, not really looking at the bird any more – they’d been concentrated enough when they’d first arrived, staring through telescopes, taking notes, drawing sketches. Then, everyone had been whispering. Now, they’d turned up the volume: they were laughing, catching up on the news, sending texts and photos to friends not lucky enough to be there, gripping them off. Hugh was in the centre of them. You’d have thought it had been him and not Dougie who’d found the swan and because he’d been the second to see it, his name would be in the British Birds rarity report too. Dougie resented that.

Soon the plane would be in. In the distance he thought he could hear Tammy’s car on the return trip to collect them. That was a relief. He felt responsible for getting the newcomers down the island on time. It was all very well Hugh holding court with his stories – everyone wanted to hear about the murder and Hugh was happy enough to oblige – but it would be Dougie who’d get the blame if they weren’t on the airstrip when the plane landed. If Angela had been here she would have laughed at him. For fuck’s sake, Dougie boy, lighten up a bit. She’d laughed at him a lot – about his obsession with being on time, the boring nature of his job, taking himself too seriously. But she’d taken herself seriously, Dougie thought. At least, when it came to her work.

The gold Capri driven by Sally Jamieson appeared round the corner and a sort of cheer went up. There were comments about the rust and the smell but none of them would have wanted to walk. The group started to move away from the edge of the pool towards the road. The Shetland birders would be glad to get back to Lerwick, to lunch in a bar and a few beers to celebrate. The rest had to make their way south. Dougie walked behind them. He turned for a last look at the swan. It stretched its wings, ran over the water to take off and sailed into the air. He expected it to circle and return to the water. It had done that a number of times since it had settled on Golden Water. But it flew high into the air and disappeared to the north. The birders fell silent and watched it until it was out of sight. They knew it wouldn’t return now.

Chapter Twenty-eight