As we reach the end of the road, the noises of the dig become noticeable again. The same rattle and creak of machinery that I heard yesterday.

‘Okay, so as your official tour guide, I’m now obliged to tell you that you have two choices.’ He points left. ‘Southwest, which will take us via a very muddy Coffin Road to the equally muddy Sid a’ Choin Mhòir and Loch Dubh.’

‘Sid a’ Choin Mhòir?’

He grins, showing his teeth. ‘Lair of the Big Dog.’

‘Next to Terror Mountain.’

‘Oh, yeah, never let it be said we don’t warn you. Fucking Miserable Glen would be more truthful. Stretches for a half mile between Ben Wyvis and Tòrr Dìseart, the burial mound the archaeologists are working on, if you fancy seeing that.’ He points to the distinctly brighter right. ‘Or, we can head northwest, which takes us to Àite Lurach, which means Lovely Place, and Tràigh Mhòr – Big Beach.’

‘I think I’ll take Lovely Place and Big Beach.’

‘A wise choice, ma’am.’

As we head off the road and onto wet grass, we pass a high plateau enclosed by a stone wall.

‘Kilmeray Cemetery,’ Will says. ‘All graveyards here look out to sea. You’re always guaranteed a good eternal view.’

‘Have you heard about thin places? Charlie said—’

‘Christ, you really got both barrels, huh?’ He moves closer, narrows his eyes. ‘I’ll tell you something Charlie probably didn’t tell you about this place.’

‘What?’

‘The people who live here aren’t allowed to be buried here.’

‘What? Why not?’

He moves closer still, nudges my shoulder. ‘Because they’re still alive.’

I let out the breath I hadn’t even realised I was holding. ‘Ha.’

‘This is just a place, Maggie. It’s not mysterious. It’s not magic. It’s not any more spiritual than Glasgow bloody Airport.’

‘Guess you don’t think I’m the reincarnation of Robert Reid then?’ I say before I realise I was going to.

‘I heard about Robert in the pub last night,’ Will says. He looks at the cemetery, and then back at me. ‘The whole Andrew-Robert thing – and him living in the blackhouse? I mean it’s pretty … wild.’

‘Robert once told Charlie he was from Ardshader in Uig. And yesterday I found out that an Andrew MacNeil was born there in 1967.’

‘Shit.’ Will shakes his head. ‘That’s …’

My smile is small, my cheeks hot. ‘Yeah.’

‘There actually was an Andrew MacNeil? That’s …’ He shakes his head, briefly betraying his incredulity before schooling his expression again. ‘Pretty wild. But anything’s possible, right?’

‘Yeah,’ I say again.

‘Look, I know it’s not been easy since you got here. That people have been …’ He stops walking. ‘We moved to the island well after it happened, but Mum’s always said it was still pretty raw. Lorne’s and Robert’s deaths both. It took a long time for the island to get over it. I guess you coming here again, it’s just stirred it all up.’ His smile is sympathetic. ‘That’s all the hostility is. It’ll pass. I meant it last night when I said they’re good people.’