After Richard’s defeat and death in 1485, the castle became the property of the victorious Henry Tudor and remained owned by the Crown until it was sold by James I in 1604, but by this time the castle fabric was already in decline.

The first reference I could find of Middleham as a centre for racehorse training dated from 1765, and nowadays there were so many stables in and around the town that it was sometimes nicknamed the Newmarket of the North.

I drove past the castle and took the Coverham Lane out of the town up the hill, past the training gallops on my right to Pinker’s Pond, where I pulled well off the road. For good measure, I drove a little way along a dirt track until the Skoda was partly shielded from view by a row of low trees.

There was no sign of Gary.

I waited.

Noon came and went with still no appearance by the elusive Mr Bremner.

At a quarter to one a battered old Ford Escort pulled up some distance behind me. At last, I thought … but it wasn’t Gary Bremner.

I watched in my rear-view mirror as the occupant got out of his car. He turned away from me to relieve himself before leaning against the car’s rear wing and lighting a cigarette.

I sat and waited some more, beginning to regret having left home so early.

I tried Gary’s number but without success: This person’s phone is currently unavailable. Please try again later.

Eventually, the man behind me finished his cigarette, climbed back into the battered Ford and drove away, leaving me once again on my own.

How much longer should I wait?

By half past one I was getting quite impatient. I was also hungry. I decided that I’d wait for another fifteen minutes. If he wasn’t here by then, I’d go and have a look at his burned-out stables, then go home. Maybe I’d also talk to the police.

I dozed a little, so I didn’t actually see Gary arrive, but he was suddenly opening the Skoda’s passenger door and getting in quickly next to me.

‘About time too,’ I said.

‘Sorry, Sid. I couldn’t get away.’

‘From where?’

‘My place.’

‘I thought you were lying low.’

‘I am. I have a sort of summer house shed thing up the top of my garden. Hidden by the trees. I slept in there last night.’

‘So why couldn’t you get away?’

‘Because the Old Bill have been searching my house all morning. I couldn’t leave or they’d have seen me.’

‘Why have they been searching your house?’

‘I dunno. Probably looking for me, especially if they’ve found no trace of me in the remains of the yard.’

‘You’re crazy. You have to speak to them.’

‘Maybe. But later.’

‘Do your family know you’re alive?’