I tried to push out a polite smile. “Right. I see.” I didn’t see at all.

There was a tense silence, until Flynn Talbot signalled to the waitress to request a black coffee. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, indicating my pot of tea.

I struggled to answer. “Er. No thanks. I’m fine.”

I wasn’t fine. My head was scrambled. This wasn’t playing out at all like I had expected. Instead of meeting up with what I’d imagined to be a dapper, charming older man with well-cut steely hair and a nice line in Pringle jumpers, I was confronted by a cocksure guy who was aged about thirty-five.

This was all going wrong. I had messed up big time.

I thought about the letter to Lily secreted inside my bag. Now I felt stupid. Why didn’t I just let things be, rather than make a stupid tit of myself?

“Ms Baxter? Hello?”

I snapped my head up

“Sorry,” I stumbled. “I don’t understand what’s happened here. I think there’s been some sort of mistake.”

The waitress set a black coffee down in front of Flynn Talbot and evaporated.

He shifted in his chair. “A mistake?” His brows knotted. “Look, I’m rather busy. What’s going on?”

I rubbed at my forehead. Good question. I was wondering the same thing.

“I discovered a letter. It was in a house called Merry Wood, not far from where I live in Silver Ness.” I forced out a laugh. “I’m sure it’s nothing to do with you.”

He shot forward in his seat like he had been punched. His eyes snapped from me to his coffee and back again. “Sorry. Did you just say Merry Wood?”

I scanned his face. Crikey. The mention of the house had snared his attention. “Yes,” I faltered, confused. “And this letter was written to an acquaintance of mine, a Mrs Lily Cruickshank, and was signed by someone also called Flynn Talbot.”

An odd expression took over his features. He sat back and folded his arms, a defensive fleck appearing in his eyes. They skewered into me. “Well, that is my name, but whoever this Flynn Talbot is, it’s not me. I don’t know a Lily Cruickshank. I’ve never heard of her.”

Dear God. This was agony. It was like ripping a plaster from an irritated wound. What the hell was happening here?

He glowered at me again. “Can I see this letter please?”

“No, that wouldn’t be right,” I explained. “It belongs to Mrs Cruickshank and I don’t even know if she is aware of its existence.”

Flynn Talbot’s light eyes locked with mine. “I see. Well, do you have a photograph of this Lily Cruickshank? Maybe I’ve taken her picture in the past, but the name doesn’t mean anything.”

“I don’t have a photo, I’m afraid.”