The sight of her reminded Ben of Aoife’s first steps. Not that he had been around to witness them in person. What kind of half-decent father had the time for that? Jess had sent him a video while he was in work; part-time then, and still in college. Thirty seconds of unbridled, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it drama. He must have watched it twenty times on repeat. Ben had shared the clip with his mum, popped on his name badge, and went back out to the shop floor. He’d still had three hours left on his shift. All the while his little girl was walking, every step leaving him behind.

‘Come on,’ Chloe said. ‘I’m pretty sure we can catch her. The kid’s got energy, I’ll give her that. But she lacks a certain finesse.’

‘Sure, her legs are too different lengths,’ Ben said as he peered down the hill. ‘I’m surprised she can even walk.’

He’d seen cliffs less steep. But if the girl could make it down, then surely they stood half a chance. Chloe held on to his sleeve. He, in turn, gripped a fistful of her furry hood. And together they worked their way down, inch by near vertical inch until Ben had to tug her back. Ever the liability, he hadn’t the strength left to dig his heels into the loose clay.

‘Christ,’ he gasped as a fresh pain seized his calves, ‘my legs are going to go.’ He arched his knees, trying to realign his balance. ‘Do you want go on ahead in case I drag you down with me?’

‘Fucking city boys.’ She smiled, shaking her head. ‘You’ve come too far to fall now. Just hold on to me.’

Avalanches of grit broke around him as he scratched his way downward. ‘You’re like a little anchor with those boots,’ he said, now clutching on to her with both hands.

‘Is that how you charm the ladies, Benny Boy? By calling them fucking anchors?’ Chloe replied as level ground peeled into sight. ‘There,’ she said, pointing towards a narrow hollow in the wall, framed by coils of thorns. ‘I reckon that’s where she crept through.’

Chloe was right. The whole wall was a mass of leaf and stone. But where the midges misted the shadows and those twiggy arms reached a little shorter, there was an opening, like a secret passage in a Gothic manor that only ghostly children could travel through.

Ben recalled the blood vessels on Sparling’s map. The path, if they stayed with it, would lead them into the crux of the village. Or there was option number two – follow the kid.

‘What do you want to do?’ Chloe asked, prompting his decision.