There is something different about the chapel, and it takes her a few seconds to work out what it is. A faint smell that doesn’t belong here; it grows stronger as she gets closer to the mural, but she can’t quite identify it.

The painting looks even more sinister in the moonlight. The autumn colours are more subdued, the sky darker, the rain more gloomy. Just like earlier, the distorted reflections in the surface of the water almost seem to be alive, subtly shifting as she approaches – separating, coming together, separating again, forming new patterns, new shapes. Something that resembles . . .

The moon passes behind a cloud, and for a few seconds the chapel is in semi-darkness. Anna stops dead, not taking her eyes off the painting. She is so focused that she doesn’t hear someone coming up the narrow staircase.

Moonlight floods the room once more and she inhales sharply. The reflections in the water have flowed together to form the outline of a young man. His arms are stretched out and his face is turned up to the sky. His skin is pale, his blond hair surrounds his head like a halo. There is something incredibly beautiful about the image, yet at the same time it is deeply tragic, because it is very clear that the young man is dead.

‘That must be Simon Vidje,’ Agnes says from behind her, almost frightening the life out of her mother.

Chapter 12

12

28 August 1990

Carina watched as Simon stood up, propped his guitar against a rock and set off towards the path – going for a pee, no doubt. She waited until no one was looking in her direction, then got up and slowly followed him. She didn’t really know why, just that something had happened, something that meant she needed to talk to him. It was dark among the trees, but she’d taken this path many times before. It went all the way to the ruins of the old workmen’s huts that had once belonged to the quarry; nobody went there anymore.

‘Simon?’ she whispered. ‘Where are you?’

‘Here!’

She heard a noise to her right, and he emerged from the trees zipping up his fly. They stood opposite each other, a little closer than they would have done in daylight, as if the darkness was pushing them together. The proximity gave Carina a little tingle in her belly, which was ridiculous. This was Simon Vidje, whom she’d known since preschool. And yet, in some strange way, it wasn’t the same Simon, but a completely different person.

‘I was thinking . . .’ She shuffled uncomfortably. ‘It’s fantastic news about the tour – congratulations again.’ The weed was making her slur her words slightly. They tasted . . . burned.

‘Thanks.’

‘When are you leaving?’

‘On Monday.’

‘Right.’ Carina took a deep breath, hesitated. Her attention was caught by the sound of a branch breaking somewhere in the forest.

‘What was that?’

‘I’ve no idea.’