After Naas, I couldn’t see much else either. A thick fog descended and traffic slowed to a crawl. Hunched over the steering wheel, I gave all my attention to staying on the road but, by the time I got to Cashel, I had to stop for a break. The driver behind me had the same idea, I saw, as he or she exited the motorway behind me and followed me along the unnecessarily complicated system of loops that led finally into the motorway service station. I filled up with petrol, paid, got a large coffee, and went upstairs. There was a nasty seating area with a couple of black fake leather sofas. Uncomfortable, as it turned out. I had intended to rest for a while. But that feeling I had had all day, that I was missing something, wouldn’t leave me. After no more than five minutes, I gulped back my coffee, went to the loo, and drove on.

It was almost 12.30 when I got home, jittery from the tension of the drive and the strain of the last few days. With no work to go to in the morning, and no hope of sleep, I flicked on the television and surfed half-heartedly through the TV channels. I perked up. Night of the Hunter, one of my favourite films, was just starting on Film4. I watched to the end, then switched off, and sat for a while in the dark, ‘Leaning’ and Robert Mitchum’s voice, going round and round in my head. For the first time in years, I had missed most of the Film Festival and wouldn’t see the rest of it either. All because of Jeremy Gill. Which I might call ironic, if I wasn’t so dog-tired.

I woke from a half-sleep at seven and went down to my study, where I typed up a to-do list for the day, scanned my note of the night before, and updated my connections file. Assuming I got back to work some time, it would be easy to download it to the firm’s system later. Then, I pinged an email to Tina, asking her up to my house for lunch, and to bring the exhibit box from my desk (she had my spare desk key but not the key for the box).

At 8.15, I checked my Gmail and found a message from Rhona, sent at 8.01.

Hi Finn,

I have been thinking about what you said all night, about Deirdre and the others. I am not making any promises but I will think some more and talk to my counsellor. Do not put any more pressure on me or ask anything else of me at the moment. Please. I was very upset after you left last night and I need time to recover. I will contact you when I am ready, if I ever am.

Rhona