‘You were trying to help,’ Magnus said.

‘Anyway, I drew the map as she described it. She was quite cheery at that point.’ Marge pointed to the left of the map. ‘I asked what was after the rough ground. I thought it was maybe other houses. Karen said no, it was a wood where she and her pal Mary had built a den, so I made an attempt at trees. That’s when it all kicked off.’

Magnus waited for her to go on.

‘She went white as a sheet. I thought she was going to faint and then she said they were in the woods before Mary went to the chapel.’ Marge looked at Magnus. ‘She said Mary told her she shouldn’t be wearing a white dress at all. She asked Karen if God would forgive her. You know what that means, Professor?’

Religion wasn’t a contentious issue in Orkney. Mostly Church of Scotland residents, with a very small percentage of those of the Catholic faith, sectarianism didn’t exist and the kids all went to the same school, just like in the Highlands. Unfamiliar with the ways of the Catholic Church, Magnus had had to look up the whole confirmation ritual to understand the significance of the child’s dress and veil.

Mary, it seemed, had known exactly what wearing it meant.

Marge was looking at him, her eyes filled with tears. ‘Some man got to her, Professor, and made her ashamed to wear that dress.’

Magnus recalled Alec McLaughlin’s words that Mary McIntyre had been pregnant and that was why she’d had to disappear. Maybe he was right.

‘After she said that, everyone was talking about what it meant. That’s when Karen got up and went out. I thought maybe she just needed to collect herself, but when she didn’t come back, I went looking for her. She was out in the car, ready to go, plus she’d taken back the diary.’ Marge looked at Magnus, her distress at this obvious. ‘I asked if she’d be back, but I knew she wouldn’t.’

Magnus looked again at the map. The names were all there on the street that Marge had drawn. The McIntyres, the Marshalls, Alec McLaughlin. And across the road the two schools, one Catholic, one Protestant, and the hidden den in the woods.

A broken line showed the path from the den to the school and on to the chapel, represented by a cross at the top of the map.

Mary had walked that way and apparently never came back.

The ominous silence while they both considered all of this was suddenly broken by the ring of Marge’s mobile.

Checking the screen, she said, ‘It’s Beth from the recovery cafe.’ Answering with a quick, ‘It’s Marge’, she then listened carefully, her expression moving from pleasure to concern. ‘Okay, me and the Prof will take a look.’

Ringing off, she broke the news.

‘We’ve found out where Karen lives.’

37

‘So,’ said Chrissy, sticking her head round the door. ‘Time to shut up shop?’ Her voice held the traces of an appeal in it. ‘My eyes are crossing.’