‘Come on, let’s get inside.’

The reception area was spacious and tasteful and somewhat ruined by a series of tall white signs detailing all of the spa treatments available within Fiddler’s Mill House. A young, orange woman with yellow hair beamed at them from behind a desk.

‘Can I help you?’

‘We’d like to have breakfast please,’ said Nikki. ‘Is your restaurant open?’

‘Yes, of course.’ The young woman slid a pamphlet across the counter to them. It had a picture of an avocado on the front and not, as Heather might have hoped, bacon and eggs. ‘Here is the menu. The restaurant is just through the arch to your right. Have a lovely day.’

‘Could I ask you a couple of questions?’ Heather leaned on the countertop, folding her arms.

‘Of course.’ The receptionist dialled down the smile from satisfied-customer to query-incoming.

‘Do you know anything about the history of this place? Specifically about the commune that was on the site during the Seventies and Eighties?’

The woman nodded carefully and retrieved another pamphlet from a drawer on the desk. This one had a black and white photo of the house on the front. ‘There you go. Fiddler’s Mill was built in the late 1700s, and has had an interesting history since then. The main points are highlighted in the pamphlet there.’

‘Interesting history.’ Heather nodded slowly, looking at the leaflet. ‘What about the rumours that the Red Wolf used to live around here? Do you know anything about that? About Michael Reave?’

The smile vanished. ‘What?’

‘I have it on good authority he was a part of the commune here from the Seventies onwards …’

‘I don’t know anything about that.’

‘Are you sure? Because—’

‘No, seriously, I don’t.’ The woman leaned forward. ‘They tell us to play down the commune stuff, because of all the drug-taking and that,’ she glanced around briefly, as if her manager might be looming, ‘but I’ve never heard anything about the Red Wolf. Are you serious?’

‘Is there much left on the grounds from that time? Could you tell me that?’

The woman grimaced and leaned back. Now, as she glanced around the reception, it was clear she was seeking someone else to deal with them. Heather lowered her voice. She could feel Nikki’s discomfort next to her.