‘It’ll be your loss if you do,’ she said, pulling both cupboard doors open and dropping to her knees, unable to make out what was what for the towels, bottles and boxes of toiletries packed in there. ‘At least now I know why this place seems so tidy. It’s because you’ve shoved literally every piece of rubbish into this cupboard. Are you sure they’re here?’

As she ran a hand underneath the pile of towels, Ava’s fingertips grazed a rough, cold surface. Curious, without thinking, she grabbed and pulled.

For a few moments she sat in silence, unmoving. Even in the dim light, she recognised what she was holding immediately.

‘Ava, did you find them?’ Callanach called.

She opened her mouth to reply, but words were suddenly too complex to form. In the bedroom, she could hear him shifting on the bed, his feet hitting the floor. Additional light spilled into the bathroom, illuminating the child’s prayer slate she was holding.

On the circular grey slate, six or so inches in diameter, a traditional Celtic prayer had been painted in a beautiful swirling calligraphy. The prayer was one she’d whispered before sleep for as long as she’d been able to read. Regardless of the fact that puberty had seen the rejection of her parents’ chosen church, the slate had remained in her bedside table throughout her adult life. A fragment of comfort, of simplicity, memories of an easier time.

It had registered in the back of her mind that she hadn’t seen it for … what? Months, years? But life was too busy to spend time looking for stray items that would inevitably have been pushed to the back of a cupboard. It had never occurred to her that it might have been taken without her knowledge.

‘Seriously, let a woman into your bathroom and she won’t come out for hours. I knew I should have gone to look for them myse …’

The end of the word died on the lips that had been kissing her just minutes ago. The lips she’d thought would never issue lies. The man she’d trusted, always, since the day they’d met. Until now.

‘This is mine,’ she whispered. ‘What’s it doing in your bathroom, hidden?’

‘Ava, damn, I’m so sorry, I meant to give that back to you ages ago, I just didn’t know how,’ Callanach said, getting to his knees next to her and putting an arm across her shoulders.

She pulled a few inches away. ‘I assumed I’d misplaced it. I thought I was just disorganised. You know me. I can catch a killer but never find the pair of shoes I’m looking for. It never dawned on me that anyone would take something so incredibly personal. Something obviously from my childhood. Why would you do that?’