The wind had dropped today and her feet crunched on the flint-dotted path that led west towards the sea. Above her a couple of seabirds wheeled on the thermals, their harsh cries echoing across the open fields. She followed a path along a dry-stone wall, the sharp-edged slanting stones packed like haphazard library books, taking in the soft-eyed Kerry cattle that occasionally lifted their heads to watch her progress. Her hamstrings pulled as she walked up the hill but once at the top the view was worth it. Ahead of her she could see the golden sandy spit of Inch Beach sticking out into the sea, surrounded by the rolling hills of Kerry over the water. Energised by the breeze and the sight of the dancing white waves rushing into shore, having been inside for most of the day, she picked up her pace and began to stride down the hill to the road she could see at the bottom. Away to the right she could see the gravelly stone track leading from the road down to the beach and was delighted with her navigating skills.

Unfortunately, just ahead of her was a fence blocking the path. She studied it, wondering if she should climb it. The wooden posts and rails edged an area no wider than two lanes of the motorway and cut into the field like a dogleg. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for it and she stared down at the ground wondering if there were something planted there that she shouldn’t walk on; beyond the fence she could see that the path carried on until the next section of fence only a few metres further on. To walk round the fence wasn’t so far out of her way but she’d have to turn left for a few hundred metres and plough across the uneven field before going straight and then she’d have to come back the same distance to join the path that she could see led quite clearly straight through the field. Adrienne had said earlier, quite unequivocally, that the land from the farm down to the beach belonged to the Byrne family.

She hoisted herself up over the sturdy fence which looked brand new and set off along the clearly discernible path which followed the dry-stone wall. Further along, built into the wall, was a half-ruined structure that had seen better days, it looked like some kind of animal shelter.

‘Stop!’

A man stepped out of the shelter, his face contorted in sudden fury as he spotted her, but what stopped Hannah dead in her tracks was the shotgun he raised and pointed it straight at her.

She’d never even seen a gun before, let alone one this close, and he was advancing on her, the gun held high.