The expression on Flynn Talbot’s face when I had mentioned Merry Wood, and the way he’d marched off, wanting to put distance between himself and what I’d told him, made me even more convinced Flynn Talbot knew more about his namesake or that house than he cared to admit.

I toyed with the idea of shooting off another email to him, but decided I might have more luck trying to speak to him. People could ignore emails whereas if it was a phone call… well, he could of course ignore that too, but I believed the odds of catching him unawares over the phone might be in my favour.

I pulled up his photography website details. It comprised of a minimalist layout and slideshow with horizontal scrolling displaying images one by one. There was a black and white photograph of him in one corner, smouldering at the camera. I jabbed his mobile number into my phone.

Harley watched me as I paced up and down the kitchen floor, mentally couching what I was going to say to him.

He answered after several long rings and let out an irritated sigh when I introduced myself again. “Look, Ms Baxter, I admire your tenacity, but I have nothing to say to you.”

“Mr Talbot, you and I both know you reacted the way you did on Friday because you either recognised some detail from the letter I talked about or the mention of Merry Wood gave you a shock. It’s one of the two.”

There was a bristly pause. “My, we are talented. Telepathic now, are we?”

“No, but in my profession, you learn to read people.”

“I’m busy,” he barked down the line. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

“Mr Talbot, if you tell yourself that often enough, you might start to believe it.” There was a furious growl.

“You share the same name as the man who wrote that letter to Lily. A curious coincidence, don’t you think?”

Flynn Talbot didn’t say anything for a moment. He gathered himself. “Yes, I recall you saying something like that before, Ms Baxter. A coincidence. They do happen in life, believe it or not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an important photography appointment and I’m five minutes late for it as it is.”

Frustration gnawed at me. I couldn’t tell him about Lily’s health condition; it wasn’t my information to tell. But he was being so bullish. Hearing something like this might make him reconsider helping me. My brain felt rattled. What I was thinking of doing was wrong. Then images of a pale, tired Lily gazing across at Merry Wood lodged themselves in my head and refused to budge. Shit!