The lamb was suckling from its poor mother in a way which looked borderline abusive. They were closer to the cliff edge than I’d have liked. ‘It had better not go over again,’ I said. ‘Or it’s staying there.’

Daniel laughed.

‘Is that the first time you’ve dragged a lamb off a cliff edge?’ I asked. ‘You seemed quite the expert.’

‘I must be a natural. Perhaps I’ve finally found my vocation. How about you?’

‘Part of a normal day in Peak District policing.’

We headed back across the moor. A surprising wave of well-being washed over me. It had been good to forget about everything for a few minutes and focus on saving the lamb. And I realised with a jolt of discomfort that I’d enjoyed spending time with Daniel. I remembered the research that showed you were more likely to be attracted to someone if you met them on a high bridge. Your brain mistook adrenaline from fear for adrenaline from attraction. It was probably just that.

I forced my mind to clunk back into standard operating mode.

‘Daniel,’ I said. ‘You need to tell me what you know about the Pale Child. What’s going on? You saw her in the woods on Monday night, didn’t you? When you met Gary, Anna and Kirsty?’ I held the mask up. ‘Was she wearing this?’

Daniel sighed. ‘Welcome back, Detective.’

‘I have to do my job.’

‘Well, I didn’t see her, I’m afraid.’

‘But you saw the girl on the cliff just now. And this mask is real. You grew up in this village. What’s it all about?’

Daniel strode faster, kicking his way through a clump of bracken. He didn’t answer my question.

I hurried to keep pace. ‘What is it?’ I touched his arm. ‘What do you know about the Pale Child?’ I thought of the secret that Gary had supposedly told Violet. Did Daniel know what that was?

His shoulders dropped and he slowed and turned towards me. ‘We saw her in the woods the night of my car accident all those years ago. But it wasn’t the Pale Child who was responsible. It wasn’t the Pale Child who got in a car when drunk and ended up killing someone. It was me.’

I didn’t say anything, but slowed my pace, hoping he’d slow with me and continue talking.

‘I live with a lot of guilt,’ he said. ‘I try to do good things. Try to put things right.’

I couldn’t argue with that. He’d risked his life to save a lamb. ‘I can see that. Guilt from your accident, you mean?’