‘That was partly it, but not entirely.’

‘D’you think he would’ve denied me access?’ Alys wonders.

‘Who knows?’ I shrug. ‘But if he’s walking to Douai, then at least we have a couple of days’ grace, now. In fact I’ll head over there first thing tomorrow and have a quick word with Sorcha and Mr Barrow. Try and figure out some kind of compromise.’

‘It’s rather funny when you think about it, though …’ Alys muses.

‘Funny?’ I echo.

‘Yes. Funny. Ironic. That the one person who’s spent the last twelve years running away from anything and everything to do with the Cleary family should now be getting so irate about the behaviour of someone who seems to feel exactly the same way as she does about the whole thing.’

I gaze at Alys, indignant. ‘But I’ve done everything humanly possible to maintain the cottage and the shrine since I inherited the place.’

‘Apart from being there yourself. Saying yes! Giving of yourself.’

‘I made a prior commitment to Tilda!’ I exclaim.

‘Of course.’ She shrugs.

‘And I hardly think it’s fair to compare my need for privacy … to keep something back for myself … with … with Mr Huff and his … his strange vendetta against the Clearys.’

‘It’s perfectly ridiculous to think that Mr Huff has a vendetta against the Clearys!’ Alys snorts. ‘Bran Cleary was his best friend, remember?’

‘His wife had an affair with Bran Cleary, Alys!’ I howl.

‘There was never any final proof of that,’ she snaps.

‘Well how else to explain what happened? Either they were having an affair or …or …’

I can’t finish my sentence. Neither one of us really wants to ponder the alternatives.

Alys returns to the window and takes a sip of her hot water.

‘Why wouldn’t he let me see the photographs, though?’ I persist. ‘What possible harm could it have done? And why’s he so desperate to stop people from paying their respects at the shrine, come to that? And why didn’t he make any attempt to try and interview me over the past six weeks – Orla’s nurse, her closest confidante around the time of her death – if he was so eager to tell the full story? The same applies to Sorcha. He’s not remotely interested in speaking to her, but Sorcha – for all her many faults – was one of the first to recognize Orla’s holy aura, to believe in her and to grasp the nature of her mission with Aboriginal peoples. Sorcha was there at the very beginning, Alys. She knew Orla better than virtually anybody. It’s almost like Mr Huff is … like he’s determined to … like he’s going out of his way to … to avoid the truth.’

‘And whose truth would that be, exactly?’ Alys wonders, dryly.

I am momentarily floored by this question (Whose truth would that be, exactly? I wonder).

‘Yours?’ Alys pushes in her short sabre with an effortless precision.

‘You can’t have it both ways,’ I murmur, wounded. ‘You can’t accuse me of not doing enough with one breath and then attack me for being too involved with the next.’