She decided to go no further, but retraced her steps, back over the stile into the churchyard, still musing on the absence of any human life. Never mind that it was August, and that thousands of visitors came to the Cotswolds every week, not one of them would venture onto a barely visible footpath to explore empty fields and handsome old trees. Coachloads of them would be swarming around Bibury, Chipping Campden, Snowshill and other famous spots, ignoring the spaces in between.

But then, all of a sudden, as she was loitering in the churchyard, two men appeared in the wide opening onto the road and turned up the approach to the church, towards her. She quickly recognised one of them, from his limping gait − it was the man from the churchyard the previous day. But his companion was not the same one as before. As she waited for them to come closer, she could see that this one was also fairly elderly, with a face very similar to the man with a limp. She wondered if they might be brothers.

She made no conscious decision to speak to them, but simply stood there, watching them and waiting for them to reduce the space between her and themselves. Eventually, she said, ‘Hello! Looks as if the sun’s trying to come out.’

‘Ah! Good morning to you,’ said Dick, the man she’d met before, after a brief hesitation. Had he not wanted to speak to her, she wondered. Was she nothing more than a nuisance to him? ‘Been for a walk, have you?’ His 166eyes were small and blue, his chin slightly pink, as if very recently shaved. He wore a short-sleeved checked shirt and light summer trousers with a careful crease down the front. He did not meet Thea’s gaze for more than half a second at a time, but kept his focus on a point somewhere over her shoulder.

‘That’s right.’ She adopted a falsely buoyant tone, which she quickly realised must appear very foolish, given events of the past few days. ‘Not much else to do, really. And it’s all so lovely, isn’t it. That house further along the road, with the business park all round it—’ She nodded towards the mansion she had so admired. ‘Must be Georgian, I suppose.’

‘Quite right. Still privately owned and well maintained.’ A hint of local pride was readily detected.

‘I noticed the ha-ha as well,’ she went on. ‘Even though it’s rather overgrown. You could fall over it at night. I do like a ha-ha,’ she added. ‘Such a simple idea.’

‘Nobody goes that way at night,’ said the second man. ‘There’s a perfectly good driveway the other side of the yard.’ In contrast to his companion, he gave her a steady look, with eyes of a darker blue.

‘The stiles are rather a challenge, though.’ She found herself wanting to keep them there for a few minutes. It was good to have someone to talk to, even if it was only trivial chit-chat.