‘Bought the other one from the travellers. Their women make a lot of pretty things. I haven’t seen anyone around here wearing one. Except for you.’ He narrowed his eyes at me. ‘You all right? You’re looking a bit peaky. Gone white all of a sudden.’

‘You said you found this on the cart when you returned it to Scannal’s. Can you remember where you’d been that day?’

Grim got up to put the kettle on. ‘Hard to forget. Funny sort of day. Took a load of flour over to Silverlake. That baker, you’ll have heard of him. Branoc. Fellow couldn’t wait to see the last of me. Why?’

‘Could this kerchief have got on the cart in Silverlake?’

‘Things don’t get on carts by themselves.’ Grim set two cups on the table, beside the red kerchief. ‘I stopped in the village for directions, talked to a woman. Couple of children had a ride on the horse.’

‘So any of them might have dropped it?’

‘Think I’d have seen, if they did. Anyway, it wasn’t on top of the load, it was underneath.’

‘You’re saying it was on the cart before you loaded up? It could belong to someone at Scannal’s?’

Grim dropped a generous pinch of dried peppermint leaves into each cup. ‘Nah. I’d have seen it.’ He poured hot water onto the herbs, releasing a sweet, healing smell. He found the honey jar and set it on the table, with a spoon. ‘Why are you asking?’

‘Because I prefer my stories to have an ending, and this one doesn’t. Not yet, anyway. Something’s bothering me about this kerchief and how you came by it.’

Grim straightened. After a moment he said, ‘You saying I stole it?’

‘Would I be shocked by that? I’ve stolen before when I had to, and worse than a kerchief from a traveller’s market. I’m not saying that at all. It’s more a . . . a feeling. Something out of place. Tell me everything you did that day, Grim. From picking up the cart at Scannal’s to bringing it back again.’

He gave me the story: how he’d harnessed up the two big horses, loaded on his bags of flour, driven the cart to Silverlake village. The woman who’d given him directions had invited him to drop in on the way home. Then he’d gone up the hill to the baker’s, which had a house and a barn with big doors and a loft.

‘I backed the cart in, so the load was just outside the doors. You sure you want to hear all this? Can’t think why.’

‘Go on. Where was Branoc while you were doing this?’