About half an hour later the Land-Rover left, with Smith driving. Paul turned to Carol. From the look on her face she obviously did not know whether to be glad they had gone for help or to be apprehensive because the group was further weakened. He squeezed her arm.

‘It’s all over, darling. A few hours more and we’ll be on our way.’

‘A honeymoon to remember,’ she said quietly.

‘I’m not sure I want to.’

‘Indeed!’

‘Well, let’s say I intend my memories to be very selective.’

‘Oh?’

‘And reinforced by frequent repetition.’

The corner of her mouth twitched.

‘Oh yes. Well, if you plan to come back here you can come alone.’

He saw Bourne and Meredith arguing beside the van. Meredith looked desperately tired, his fleshy face sagging. Arnold Bourne, with the bandage round his dark head, looked equally exhausted but seemed as positive as ever. Paul raised his eyebrows at Carol, left her to walk over to them. Meredith turned to him.

‘Bourne wants to walk round the house.’

‘What! Go inside?’

Bourne shook his head, winced.

‘No of course not. Highly dangerous, I should imagine. No, I merely wish to walk round the outside, have a look at what the fire’s done.’ He hesitated, lowered his voice. ‘In any case, I feel we should see if there are any signs of Fletcher and Swanson’s bodies.’

Paul felt his stomach uneasy. He glanced at the ruin.

‘Would there be anything left?’

‘Not much, I should think,’ Meredith interjected. ‘Really, Bourne, haven’t you realized by now that we should keep well away from that place?’

It was the wrong thing to say. Paul saw Bourne’s mouth tighten.

‘Very well, I’ll go by myself.’

In the event the three men agreed to walk round the ruined house. Neither Meredith nor Paul could let Bourne venture by himself near the building and he would not give up the idea. The women, appreciating what the men might find, had no desire to accompany them.

As they approached what had once been the front of the house, the incinerator smell strengthened. They walked along the bare gravel drive, avoiding the piles of shattered slates, the fallen stonework and charred black timbers fallen from the roof. The nearest snow was all of thirty yards away, so fierce had been the heat.

In the quiet April morning, their feet seemed to crunch unnecessarily loudly over the gravel.