He started the car and drove us back up to the guesthouse. Before he went back in, he thanked me for my help, and as I climbed back into the Mini, I watched him walk up the path and into the house, round-shouldered and defeated, his gait slow and labored, his limp more obvious than it had been at the Gap.

By the time I’d reversed the car, I realized that I didn’t feel like going back to my cottage. All that awaited me there was unpacking and laundry, plus, waves of tiredness were washing over me again. Derek Jameson might be craving something to keep him busy but the climb up the bank at Mamore had taken the last bit of energy I had. I needed a coffee before I drove any further, even the few miles back to Malin.

I crossed the river again, where the rushing water was even higher than earlier. In fact, it was higher than I had ever seen it, hardly surprising with the unrelenting rainfall. In the town square the large banner for the charity cycle swung from one of the telephone poles, bedraggled and torn.

I parked in front of the bank and headed towards the Oak, stopping in the doorway to admire McFadden’s poster. He’d chosen an image of a cobra, but the words were pure McFadden.

DANGER! If you see a snake do not approach. Do not try and catch it and do not shout at it! It may be harmless, but it may also be poisonous and deadly. Last encountered Mamore Gap. Might be hiding in greenery or undergrowth. Please warn children accordingly and phone Glendara Garda Station at the number below if there are any sightings.

Despite myself I smiled. I opened the door to a pub that was full, not heaving as it had been the night before but still very busy. At the bar, Tony came over, mopping his brow.

“Glad to see you’re still open,” I said.

“Aye,” he gave me a wry look. “And we will be until we run out of milk. I got a bit of a fright last night, thought we might have some flooding ourselves, but it looks as if we’re on high enough ground not to be in any danger.” He leaned forward, his elbows on the bar. “I heard about poor Phyllis.”

“Yes, it’s awful. There’ll be a lot of damage, but at least she saved her books.”

Tony nodded sagely. “Well, that’s all that’ll matter to Phyllis. Once her books and her dog are safe, she’ll be happy enough. What can I get you?”

“Coffee, please. Maybe a cappuccino if you still have some milk? Double-shot. I’m having waves of jet lag.”

He grinned. “Oh aye – it’s worse coming this way, isn’t it?” He paused to think. “God, is it only Thursday you got back? It seems like weeks.”