“It was a few days before she said a word to anyone. Nobody knew where she’d come from, who she was, or what had happened to her. I mind the newspapermen coming by here, and my mother telling me not to say a word to them. I think it was the third or the fourth day before she told the doctors anything, and from what I heard, all she could say was they’re all dead, they’re all dead. It wasn’t till she said the names of them that a policeman from the village here figured out who she was talking about. Big Ivan Jackson, and his two sons, George and Tam, or Thomas to give him his proper name.”

“Who were they?” Sara asked.

“Farmers,” he said. He frowned before continuing. “Big ignorant lumps of men, they were. Reared cattle out there, for beef, not for milking. I mind I would see them in church on a Sunday morning, the three of them together taking up about six people’s worth of the pew. They weren’t pleasant men. My father never liked dealing with them. Big Ivan would come in once or twice a week, and he’d always crib over the price of everything, no matter how cheap it was. If you gave him a ha’penny off, he’d look a shilling. And he’d get in an awful twist if you didn’t give it to him.There’s times I remember him shouting at my father, telling him he was a thief for looking the full price of things.”

“Why didn’t your father kick him out?” Sara asked.

“I wondered that myself plenty of times,” Mr. Buchanan said. “It wasn’t till I was older that I realised the truth. It was because he was scared of him. And well he should have been, knowing what happened out there.”

“What did happen?” Sara asked, fearing the answer. “All I know is the family was killed.”

“Family,” Mr. Buchanan echoed, distaste in his voice and on his face. “Seems an odd word for it. No one really knows what the situation was out there. What led up to it. What I do know is, five of them died. Big Ivan, the two sons, and the two women who’d been living there. No one knew who they were till later on, and no one really knew what they were doing there. Whether they were wives to the Jackson boys or what. Tell you the truth, I can’t even mind their names now. Either way, they all died. They reckon George, the younger brother, lost the head and did them all in before he shot himself. At least, that’s what the inquiry decided. Mary went and hid in the cattle shed till the morning, then she walked into the village here and knocked on that door.”