‘Fate’s fate,’ said Viola, a quick, mechanical response, a pull-back from her grief. She blew across the surface of the tea.

‘I need to be having a word with your mother, do I?’

He kept his tone light, and so did she.

‘Probably. She thinks she can run away from it – fate.’

Saul pulled a face, confused: ‘I mean, do I need to be telling Dr Bishy about you?’

Viola’s attention was snatched from the steaming tea. ‘Oh, no!’ she protested. ‘Don’t do that!’

She watched him take this in, her censure of the man. Saul’s face fell, became serious.

‘I mean, I’m not, like, depressed or anything,’ she countered, desperate to soften what she’d said, not to have her words reported back to Dr Bishy himself. ‘I just wanted to sit there for a bit. I’m very happy right now. Things are going really well.’ She meant it, strangely. ‘I just needed to have a bit of a cry after the funeral, you know.’

Saul nodded. He looked to the door that led to the front desk – the route towards the chapel and the gamekeeper’s lodge where everyone would be eating sandwiches now. Viola waited for him to speak again, the moment stretching out uncomfortably. She blew across her tea once more, so she might gulp it down faster and be gone.

‘I, er…’ He coughed, started again. ‘I hope Leah Cedars is bearing up okay.’

He did not look at her.

Viola’s senses were snagged by the name, by the quality of his voice when he used it. More dots joined up. The younger woman crying at the front of the chapel was Peter Cedars’ daughter, who was, of course, the same woman who had come to the farmstead with him that time when he’d warned Viola about the snare. More importantly, this was the same woman Michael was spying on. This was Miss Cedars, the lovely Miss Cedars, who the Eldest Girls talked of sometimes, disparagingly so because of the way she fawned over Mr Hailey, the male teacher who was giving them practical demonstrations of the ways of the mainland.

Leah Cedars had managed to exist as several separate women in Viola’s mind, but now, like that science trick with the coloured filters, circles of red, green and blue slid on top of one another to become a single white light.

They’re definitely doing it – that’s what Michael had said. Leah Cedars and Saul Cooper are definitely doing it.

‘So, she’s…’ Viola did not know how to phrase it. Leah Cedars was being consoled by a different man at the funeral, in a way that suggested they were definitely doing it. Had Michael got things wrong? Viola found herself falling easily into the guise of childish innocence. ‘So, Leah Cedars, she’s your girlfriend, right?’

Saul’s eyes were on her. ‘What did you say?’