I hoped he’d leave it at that. I didn’t want to have to field questions about my relationship with the police. And he did. He fell silent again, the wind and rain battering at his hood. Then without warning, he marched over to the edge of the road, where the land rose sharply, dotted with clumps of heather and glistening rocks, standing almost exactly on the spot where the body had been lying under the tarp. But I chose not to tell him that.

Instead, I pointed to the bank. “I think his body came from up there. The rain must have dislodged him and washed him down the hill.”

Derek sucked air through his teeth and winced, as if he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“He’d been dead a little while when he fell, I think,” I added gently. I wasn’t sure if this would be any comfort, but part of me wanted to exonerate Maeve from any suspicion.

Derek looked up to where I’d indicated, hands shielding his eyes. Without a word, he set off to climb the hill, his back rigid, legs striding on ahead, seemingly ignoring any pain. After a brief hesitation, I followed, screwing up my face to head into the rain. The ground was slippery and water-logged and there were muddy sections, which were deeper than anticipated. But the mud was a better option than the rocks. The rocks were treacherous; more than once I came close to falling and sliding back down to the road. But I climbed after him, eventually resorting to hands and knees. The man was fit. I was quickly panting and out of breath.

“What are you looking for?” I called.

But he didn’t answer me, just kept moving ahead, eventually doing what I did and using his hands to grab onto rocks to steady himself and haul himself up, glancing at the ground every so often. Finally, he reached a large even patch where the view was clear, and he stopped. I joined him a few seconds later and watched as he stood gazing down towards the sea, his hands on either side of his head. I noticed for the first time the muscles on his shoulders and back, filling his Trans-Pyrenees Challenge 2015 jacket.

Lenan Head was in the distance with houses dotted along the shore, but everything was cloaked in a grey mist and the turbulent sky looked ominous. What was he feeling? I wondered. Grief? Survivor’s guilt? You’d imagine survivor’s guilt must be severe with twins. A combination of the two?

I stood beside him, the rain battering against my face. Though it wasn’t heavy, at least nothing compared to what we had been experiencing, the wind up here made it worse than it was.

“What the hell happened to him?” Derek said finally, his eyes glistening, shaking his head in confusion.

“I don’t know,” I said helplessly.