Suddenly Daisy starts barking at the ancient beech tree up ahead. The tree marks the point where we always turn around and head back towards home.

Daisy doesn’t usually react like this so I assume she’s spotted a squirrel or a fox. I call her back but she stays where she is, in a state of high excitement.

I drop my cigarette and walk towards her.

‘What’s up, girl?’ I say to her. ‘Has something creeped you out?’

When I get to within a few feet of the tree a figure steps out from behind it. A shiver grabs hold of my spine and I let out a sharp cry of alarm. The figure is ghostly and indistinct, and I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.

I start to speak, but my words are cut off as the figure rushes towards me waving what looks like a long-bladed knife.

Before I can react an explosion of pain erupts in my chest and I hear a horrible scream issue from between my lips.

My legs give way and my eyes lose focus. But then I’m stabbed again, this time in the stomach, and I drop onto the snow like a sack of cement.

The last thing I hear before blacking out is a voice that says, ‘This is no more than you deserve.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sunday December 18th

On Sunday morning, Kirkby Abbey was covered in a blanket of snow several inches deep. It had stopped falling in the early hours, so it wasn’t causing serious disruption, but tree branches were hanging low with the weight of it and the village looked like an unfinished painting.

The experts were still warning of more to come, saying that Cumbria was among the counties most likely to be battered by severe blizzards over the coming days. Their advice to hikers was not to get caught in isolated parts of the Yorkshire Dales and Lake District.

James and Annie had no firm plans for most of the day ahead, but they had decided to go along to the carol singing that was due to take place in the village square at ten o’clock that morning.

It was seven when James climbed out of bed and started making the tea after another disturbed sleep. Annie had kept him awake for much of the night worrying about her uncle.

James wasn’t so concerned about ‘Old Bill,’ as he often referred to him. He didn’t know him that well – having met him only about a dozen times since marrying Annie – but he was sure the man was capable of looking after himself. After all, he’d been living alone in Penrith since his wife divorced him eighteen years ago.

According to Annie, he had always been a difficult bloke to get on with, and had a reputation for being unreliable. In fact, he failed to turn up for their wedding even though he’d been sent an official invitation weeks before. His excuse was that he hadn’t realised it fell on the same day he was flying back from a work-related trip to Ireland.