A thumb at the inner point of my left shoulder blade. He pushed it, not exactly gently, and I let out the tiniest of breaths. The thumb moved around the bone, first at the base, then in towards my spine and working up to my shoulder, as if testing it for dirt. He held onto me there, under my top, and his other thumb mirrored the movement he’d just made on the right hand side. Like he was massaging me. The least likely time for a back-rub ever.

I stayed very still. My skin felt as if it were lined, a rind of something. There wasn’t a single sound – I couldn’t be totally sure that he was breathing. A fingernail traced down my spine, fine as a pen-tip.

His hands fell away and my bra was being re-fastened, my top lowered. The lightness of his touch almost stung. I heard him step away, sit down. He was staring at the floor. I had no idea what had just happened. The seduction seemed to be over before it had properly begun.

Jim glanced at me and nodded at the towel on the snowshoe chair.

I pressed it to my head and hid for a moment, wondering if he’d lost his nerve and was going to come and have another go. Nothing.

Clutching it around my shoulders, I took a deep breath. ‘I wanted to thank you for – I don’t know what Fraser was doing.’

He didn’t say anything.

‘I don’t know what I did to upset you. I mean’ – him sitting with his back to me at the lochside in the dark-blue light. ‘I know what I did before, but—’

‘Why were you wearing those?’ He sounded like he hadn’t slept in days.

‘The – the wings?’ He stared at me flatly. ‘For the bonfire … everybody dresses up.’

‘Why those, Polly.’

‘They were given to me. Left for me. I thought maybe it – it was you.’ It sounded ridiculous even as I said it.

He turned to me slowly, his face blank. ‘Why would I do that?’

I just swallowed and shook my head.

Whatever I’d said seemed to change something. Jim rose and stood in front of me, putting a knuckle under my jaw and tilting my cheek up, his nail on my neck. Looking for a bruise. He took a small, jerking breath in and dropped his hand. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’ve had worse.’ I bared my teeth and tapped my finger on the chipped one.

‘No.’ It came out as a sigh. He shook his head and kept shaking it. ‘You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be spending time with someone like me.’

I hugged my towel around me. ‘I liked spending time with you.’

‘Liked,’ he said, sounding unsurprised.

‘Like.’ I shivered.

He was still shaking his head, almost imperceptibly.

Jim made me a cup of tea and sat at the table again. I let the steam redden my cheeks.

He spoke quietly. ‘Who gave you those wings?’