‘Oh, yes please.’ Marnie was breathless with excitement and Christopher couldn’t help feeling relieved that he was not going to be called on to make an illicit entry. ‘What do you think it would take to get it back to its former glory, even for a different use?’

‘A lot of determination, a deep purse . . . and the bottle for a fight,’ said the old minister.

Christopher looked amused. ‘You’d be the ideal candidate on all counts,’ he told Marnie.

The Reverend Donald McBain heaved himself up from his chair with some difficulty – he really was extremely fat, so at least the sharp-faced niece must feed him well, thought Marnie, unless she was deliberately trying to hasten his demise by stuffing him with life-threatening cholesterol. He wore very ancient woolly bedroom slippers, slit open at the top to accommodate his swollen feet.

He shuffled over to a kneehole desk in the window, its top rather ink-stained and the leather coming unstuck round the edges, opened a drawer and produced a cumbersome set of keys on a chain, which he handed to Marnie.

‘The smallest key is for the padlock on the main gates,’ he explained. ‘You may have a bit of trouble getting them opened, I’m afraid. I haven’t been inside for quite a while myself, but I know they’ve got very rusted. The biggest key is to the outside door at the front of the house, and the next one is for the inner door. The last one is for the door at the back, overlooking the loch. You might want to let yourselves out that way and walk down to the water’s edge. Take as long as you like and drop the keys back here when you’ve finished with them. Turn left and keep going for about half a mile. The gates are on your right. You can’t miss them. Good luck.’

They thanked him warmly and, since there was no sign of the niece, let themselves out of the front door.

Marnie took a gulp of air. ‘Bit stuffy in there, wasn’t it?’ she said. ‘I’m glad to be outside again, aren’t you? What did you make of him?’

‘I thought he was a nice old chap,’ said Christopher, ‘but he didn’t seem particularly surprised to see you or hear your extraordinary story. Did you think it odd that he was prepared to hand over the keys just like that?’

Marnie looked taken aback. ‘I hadn’t actually given it a thought,’ she admitted. ‘I took it for granted he’d give them to us because it all feels so right to me – like some plan unfolding. And after all, we did ring up first and he had heard from Miss Fergusson this morning, so he knew we weren’t fraudsters.’

‘Oh well, I suppose so – but you and the stars have clearly got it all very well organised,’ said Christopher. ‘Come on then. Now for the big moment . . . Eilean Dobhran itself!’