‘If you choose to live in this damned country, you have to be prepared for the consequences,’ he said irritably.

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but Ginie simply raised her brows and said, ‘Let’s double check that everything’s locked before we go to bed, shall we?’ She glanced uneasily at the windows, as though she fancied that a convict’s eyes might appear on the other side of the glass. She began to say something, but changed her mind and pushed her plate away.

It was a clear night, with a full moon. Trees moaned in the wind and a hyena’s laugh echoed in the bush.

‘Did you know that according to Shona legend, witches can be seen flying through the night on hyenas’ backs when the moon is full?’ Ginie said.

Stephen couldn’t think of a sensible answer, so they fell back into silence. He wanted to ask about her walk with Mark, but the words had calcified in his mouth.

He struggled to sleep that night. He tried not to think about them together, but every time he closed his eyes, the image of Ginie smiling up at Mark played and replayed in his head. Why is it the painful thoughts we cling to like magnets? he wondered.

The wind was gaining strength. It wailed around the house, moaning in the chimney, making the doors shudder in their frames. Stephen’s last thought, as he drifted into an uneasy doze, was that he hoped that none of the escaped prisoners took refuge from the storm at La Rochelle.

Stephen was woken by Ginie calling his name. The dogs were barking. He started up, knowing that something was dreadfully wrong.

‘Stephen, quickly – the Thompsons’ farm is on fire!’ Ginie cried.

Rubbing his eyes, he got out of bed and went to the window to look. In the distance, the hills were illuminated by a flickering glare.

Quickly, he pulled on a shirt and a pair of trousers. With Ginie following, he hurried along the corridor and out into the night. The blackness of the sky had begun to lose its intensity, dawn was not far off. Sharp gusts brushed Stephen’s face, tinged with the smell of smoke – and roses. Blood thumped in his temples. He called for the dogs. They didn’t appear, they had gone off on some mission of their own.

He could hear a car approaching at speed. It screeched to a stop by the courtyard and Jill got out and ran towards them, stumbling, almost falling. Her face was grimed with smoke, her eyes showing startlingly clear against her blackened skin.