Her head whipped up at the new direction of his voice and she saw him standing a few feet away, at the end of the path. He was no longer in his jacket, no doubt abandoned for scaling the gate, but she saw the scrap of blue silk in his hand.

She blinked in disbelief that he had found her. ‘How . . .?’

‘I played in here as a boy,’ he murmured. ‘I know my way around blindfolded.’

They stared at one another for what seemed like endless minutes. She saw the pain in his eyes, felt the track of her own tears streaming down her cheeks.

He took a step towards her. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me? It could have saved so much pain—’

‘Because it’s not what you think,’ she said quickly, her voice thick. ‘It’s not.’

He blinked, looking unconvinced. He was holding his body stiffly, as though he was injured. ‘. . . Who is he? I have to know. Tell me his name.’

She felt herself begin to tremble. Even just talking about it made her want to fall apart. To disappear. ‘It doesn’t matter now. He’s dead.’

She watched his expression change. ‘What?’

‘He died.’

‘. . . When? How?’

She looked sharply away. She didn’t want to talk about it, to think about it.

‘Effie—’ He took a few steps closer, looking alarmed, but she stopped him with a step back.

‘I’m not sad. I never loved him,’ she said quickly. Defiantly. ‘I hated him!’

Sholto stared at her, seeing the way her hands were pulled into fists, her eyes shining too brightly. She looked like a cornered fox. ‘Effie . . . you have to tell me what happened. You can’t leave it like that!’

She shook her head vehemently. ‘I can. It’s behind me now and I never want to think of him again. I won’t say his name . . . He’s dead and I’m glad of it and I won’t pretend otherwise. I hated him!’

He stared at her with a look that she couldn’t bear and she knew her fear was leaking from her, all her terror and revulsion from that night telling him a story she had never wanted him to hear. You looked like you hated him, Bonner had said.

A cloud came into his eyes as he paled. ‘. . . Tell me his name.’

She shook her head as he walked over to her, ignoring her protestations now.

‘Effie, tell me his name.’ He placed his hands on her arms but she wouldn’t look at him. His voice was hoarse. ‘. . . Tell me it wasn’t . . . him.’

She looked up then, her eyes round and shining with tears.

His hand went to his mouth, pinching his cheeks. He rubbed his face, his eyes squeezing shut. ‘God no.’ He shook his head. ‘Not him.’