The place might be empty, of course. But Wada’s options were few and none of them was ideal. She needed to take shelter and phone for assistance. Her own phone didn’t work. She recalled the man in the convenience store who’d sold her an Iceland-compatible SIM card telling her it would be useless in remote areas. At the time, she hadn’t anticipated going to a remote area. But she was in one now.

That at least meant there was a chance the house was fitted with some reliable means of communication. She couldn’t find out whether it was or not without going in. She had to leave the car and try her luck. She didn’t really want to. Leaving the car meant giving up the small amount of control over her situation that she still had. But it had to be done.

She turned off the engine and at once heard the wind howling like some kind of demon in the gable eaves. That, she told herself, was simply what wind did. It couldn’t hurt her. As to what could hurt her … she would gain nothing by thinking about that.

She pulled her woolly hat down low over her eyes, took the key out of the ignition and slipped it into her pocket, then clambered out of the car and headed for the main door of the house.

She rapped hard on the door six or seven times with the heavy knocker, enough, she reckoned, to alert anyone inside to her presence. She was actually relieved when there was no response, even though she knew that wasn’t necessarily good news. She tried the handle, but it wouldn’t turn.

She peered through the nearest window and could dimly see a wood-framed interior, fitted out with wooden bedsteads. The room didn’t appear to be in use. She tried another few raps at the knocker, but still nothing stirred. And wrench at the handle as much as she liked, the door wasn’t going to open.

There was nothing for it but to see if she could gain access at the rear. She headed for the dilapidated end of the building, sheltering under the eaves as she went as best she could.

She came to what might once have been stables and a back door, sheltered by the overhang of the stable roof. Through the narrow window next to it she could see a stone-flagged passage leading into the house, with doorways off into other rooms. She tried the door handle. It turned, but the door was locked shut.

The window appeared to be her only chance of entry. There were loose stones lying in the snow at the foot of the stable wall. She picked one up and punched a hole in the pane of glass closest to the window latch, then knocked out the remaining shards, reached in and lifted the latch.