She grabbed her waxed jacket and the leash Nicholas had left her and headed for the hill. The dog stayed at heel until they climbed the stile into the rough pasture, then she ranged back and forth, scenting the air and the ground, but always checking to see where the human was. Carol was amazed at how quickly the dog appeared to have bonded with her. Flash had watched Nicholas leave with apparent indifference. No crying, no casting around as if wondering where he might have gone, nothing that remotely resembled pining. Instead, she’d followed Carol round, lying down with her head between her paws near where she was working. They’d gone for a walk along the lane in the afternoon, Flash docile on the leash, apart from a couple of tugs towards open ground.

In the evening, Flash had sat politely by while Carol cooked and ate, then she’d lain at her feet while she drank wine and browsed the news on her iPad. Come bedtime, though, Carol had shooed her into the main barn, pointing to the dog’s bed and blankets, set next to the door behind which her new mistress would be sleeping. She drew the line at sharing her bed – or even her bedroom – with a dog. Nelson had been a relatively unobtrusive bed-sharer. She suspected Flash didn’t know what unobtrusive meant.

She’d been mildly surprised that there had been no protest from Flash. According to Nicholas, Flash had been accustomed to sleeping in the utility room with her mother and litter mates. Carol had worried that the dog might be lonely. But she seemed perfectly content with her lot, and she showed no signs of wanting to escape from her new life.

‘Didn’t take me long to fall for you, did it?’ she said, scrambling up the hill behind the happy dog, feeling noticeably more cheerful than she had the previous day. Maybe it was the weather. But maybe the dog’s joie de vivre was irresistible. ‘What exactly did Michael tell George Nicholas about me that made him think I needed a dog? Because, damn it, he might be right.’

They covered the ground to the trees at the top of the hill in good time. The dog seemed as fresh as when they’d left and Carol recalled Nicholas’s injunction about exercise. ‘Come on then, we’ll go through the trees and along the ridge,’ she said, striking off at an angle through the mix of birch and alder that struggled against the prevailing wind on the shoulder of the hill.

Ten minutes brought Carol to the far side of the woodland and a breathtaking vista of the moors and the valley below. But this morning, the view she’d grown accustomed to had an added element. A familiar element, but one seen from a very different angle.