I’d brought a penlight with me, could feel it shifting around in my coat pocket as I clambered over the fence and into the field, but I didn’t switch it on for now. The darkness was so thick ahead of me, it was impossible to see much more than a few feet, and the further from the main house – and its security lamp – that I got, the less I was able to make out. Before long, I could hardly see anything at all, even where my feet were landing. But if I couldn’t see anything, neither could whoever was out here.

They would have a torch, the same as me.

I just wanted them to use theirs first.

Pausing for a moment, I listened to my surroundings, the thump of my heart in my ears. I’d come in what felt like a straight line, using the main house as a mooring, but it was hard to be certain, even as I looked back. Somewhere off to my right was the barn, and as I stared at the dark, I thought maybe I could make it out now, its huge corrugated iron walls and the maw of its main doors. I thought I could see a vague hint of white as well – one of the cows.

And then I realized it wasn’t an animal at all.

It was a person.

By the time it had registered with me, they were gone, vanishing inside what I was certain now was the barn. Immediately, I heard cows start to react – confirming that someone was in there – their noises softened by the fluted walls of the structure.

I picked up the pace, almost turning my ankle in the bumps and crags of the grass, but soon the barn began to emerge, painted a deep, charcoal grey against the night. At the doorway I saw cows moving around inside, their chalky coats making them easier to spot, even if the shadows still hid the majority of their bulk. The farmer had told me they were truly free-range, able to wander and graze wherever they wanted, except in the depths of winter, and as one came out towards me, forming out of nothing, the others passed behind it like phantoms. The smell was strong here, a mix of hay, manure and water, and for the first time I could hear a breeze: it was faint, barely strong enough to register against my skin, but as it passed through the panels of the barn it made a feeble whine, like a cry for help.

Suddenly, a light flicked on.