‘I didn’t mean to . . .’ He bumps into the wall and Anna raises a hand to slap his face, sees him recoil.

‘Mum!’ Agnes appears beside Milo, looking both shocked and furious. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

Anna lowers her hand as her anger is replaced by relief. Mats is still standing with his back pressed against the wall, palms outward as if he’s expecting a blow. Anna is ashamed of her behaviour.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I thought . . . I d-didn’t know . . .’

Agnes goes over and gently touches Mats on the shoulder, which makes him lower his arms. She gives Anna a filthy look.

‘I saw the V-Vespa. You d-didn’t answer your ph-phone.’

She is gasping for air, trying to compose herself. Make sense of the situation, find a logical explanation. She fills her lungs with air, breathes in through her mouth, out through her nose several times before turning to Mats.

‘I do apologise,’ she says with exaggerated care. ‘I saw Agnes’s Vespa on the back of your truck and I thought something had happened to her. She didn’t answer her phone, and when I saw you and Milo with that . . .’ She points to the dog who is sitting quietly with his head on one side, the rabbit still clutched in his jaws.

Mats stares at her as if he can’t quite decide whether she’s telling the truth. He looks at Agnes, then at Milo, then back at Anna.

‘I’m sorry, Mats,’ she says again. ‘I’m a mother hen.’

He nods, then gives a wry smile. ‘Hens aren’t too bad. Wild boar are worse. You don’t want to get between a sow and her young.’

‘No?’ She returns his smile.

‘No, that can be fatal.’ He nods wisely.

Anna turns to Agnes. ‘Sorry. Why is your phone switched off?’

Agnes holds up her phone; there is a large crack across the screen.

‘Milo was in such a hurry when I got home that he tripped me up. I dropped my phone on the step. Then Mats arrived – he’s the one who’s been leaving the rabbits for Milo.’

Mats is grinning now. ‘I have a smoker at the back. My sister’s dogs love smoked rabbit. Something to gnaw on – good for their teeth.’

‘Right,’ Anna says; even she can hear how foolish she sounds. ‘Well, at least the mystery of the rabbits is solved.’ She ventures a smile at Agnes; no response. ‘So, what are you doing here?’

‘Mats wondered if I’d like to photograph his collection. I had nothing better to do.’

‘Collection?’

Agnes has no intention of explaining, but Mats steps forward and opens a door. ‘Down there. You’re welcome to take a look.’

*