‘Grant …’ She tried for a look that was sympathetic rather than pitying. ‘Let’s not spoil it,’ she said quietly, trying to slide her hands out from his grip.

‘Spoil what?’ he asked hollowly.

‘We’re a team,’ she repeated.

‘That’s it?’

He was staring at her as she nodded. She kept nodding and he slowly released her hands. Siobhan turned to move away, start the descent. She hadn’t gone five paces when Grant flew past her, bounding down the slope like a man possessed. He lost his footing once or twice but bounced straight back up again.

‘Tell me those aren’t hailstones!’ he called out at one point. But they were: stinging Siobhan’s face as she tried to catch up. Then Grant caught his cagoule on the barbed wire as he hurdled the fence, ripping its seam. He was swearing and red-faced as he helped Siobhan over. They got into the car and just sat there for a full minute, getting their breath back. The windscreen started steaming up, so Siobhan slid her window down. The hail had stopped. The sun was coming out again.

‘Bloody Scottish weather,’ Grant spat. ‘Is it any wonder we’ve a chip on our shoulder?’

‘Have we? I hadn’t noticed.’

He snorted, but smiled too. Siobhan looked at him, hoping it was going to be all right between them. The way he was acting, it was as if nothing had happened up there on the summit. She took off her Barbour and tossed it into the back. Grant slipped the cagoule over his head. There was steam rising from his T-shirt. From beneath the seat, Siobhan retrieved the laptop and plugged her mobile into it, booting the machine up. The mobile’s signal was weak, but it would do.

‘Tell him he’s a bastard,’ Grant said.

‘I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear it.’ Siobhan started typing a message, Grant leaning over to watch.

Just been up Hart Fell. No sign of next clue. Did I get it wrong?

She pressed ‘send’ and waited, pouring herself a cup of tea. Grant was trying to prise his denims away from his skin. ‘Soon as we get moving, I’ll put the heater on.’ She nodded, offered him some more tea, which he took. ‘What time’s the meeting with the banker?’

She checked her watch. ‘We’ve a couple of hours. Time enough to go home and get changed.’

Grant looked at the screen. ‘He’s not there, is he?’

Siobhan shrugged, and Grant turned the Alfa’s ignition. They drove in silence, the weather clearing ahead of them. It soon became clear that the rain had been localised. By Innerleithen, the road was bone dry.

‘I wonder if we should have taken the A701,’ Grant mused. ‘Might have made for a shorter climb, the west side of the hill.’