‘There’s something rather pathetic in being confined to a wheelchair at my age. I don’t want to advertise my disability. The last thing I want is people’s pity.’

‘I can see that.’ And Carole could. Though she hoped she never ended up in a comparable situation, she could imagine herself reacting in a similar way. The worst emotion to inspire in others was pity.

‘But you like it here?’ asked Gwyneth, quite sharply.

‘Yes. Well … I mean it does have the disadvantages that go with village life …’

‘Gossip?’

‘That kind of thing, yes.’

‘Tell me about it. Just the same in Ilkley. Villages, small towns … I don’t think there’s anywhere you can escape gossip. That was one of the reasons we moved.’

‘Oh?’ asked Carole, instantly alert.

Gwyneth quickly covered up the lapse (if lapse it was). ‘Not the main reason, obviously. Adrian was retiring and we both felt like a change of scene. Then we didn’t really need all the space we had in the Ilkley house, so downsizing made sense. And moving would be a kind of adventure.’

A strange word to use, Carole thought. Moving from one home you had to negotiate in a wheelchair to another where you would face exactly the same problem. Or maybe the Yorkshire house held memories of a fully functional Gwyneth, who had led a normal life until the illness or accident that had crippled her. Carole was intrigued to know the details, but she didn’t think this was the right moment to press for them. She had a feeling she would be seeing a lot more of Gwyneth; time enough to hear the full story of how she had been crippled.

Back at High Tor, Gulliver greeted her with the wild enthusiasm of a dog about to get another walk, and then slunk back to his station by the Aga when it was clear that hope wasn’t going to be realized.

Carole stood by the work surface, assembling a cottage-cheese salad for her lunch. She was glad Jude wasn’t there watching. Jude’s views on the subject of cottage cheese were unprintable.

Then, looking out of the kitchen window, Carole saw something white on the back lawn. A piece of paper. She went out to investigate. Though she left the back door open, Gulliver didn’t follow. He knew the limitations of the back garden. Going out that way was never the preface to what he considered a proper walk.

It was a piece of paper. Slid into a transparent envelope to keep the rain off.

It read: ‘DON’T THINK YOU’RE OFF THE HOOK YET.’

TEN

Jeremiah was a tall man, probably in his late forties, well muscled with a bulk that could have been intimidating. But it wasn’t, because he also carried with him an air of calm. Jude could imagine him being a compelling charismatic preacher. That did not lessen her suspicion of him.