‘Right,’ Rachel said faintly. ‘So as far as they were concerned, she was shutting herself away from the world. Like a madwoman in the attic.’

‘The request to order so many candles in the first place and then to light them on the roof – that would have seemed like pure madness, wouldn’t it, especially on top of all that? None of the servants would have known what James and Eveline were trying to do. And to be honest, let’s face it – it’s not the most sensible thing to do under any circumstances, is it?’

Rachel took this in. It was true that they’d probably never be able to prove Toby’s theory. But it fit, didn’t it?

‘Poor Eveline,’ she whispered. ‘Imagine watching your house go up in flames. Imagine watching your husband run inside and not come out, knowing that if not for you—’ She stopped, her throat closing up without warning.

‘Think of the story,’ Toby added. ‘That James MacDonald’s wife danced on the lawn as the house burned.’

‘She wasn’t dancing,’ Rachel said. ‘She was beside herself. She—’

They were silent for a moment.

‘I guess that clears up why she would have wanted the camera obscura to be sealed up and never spoken of,’ Rachel said, once she’d recovered her voice. ‘Every time she thought about it, she must have been reminded of that night. She couldn’t knock it down, her magnificent monument to her lost son. But she couldn’t bear to think about it, either. She didn’t want anyone to know.’

They were quiet for a while, both contemplating the lighthouse before them, the tragedy to which it stood monolith.

Rachel thought again about Trudy Goodwin. Even if she couldn’t set right what the world had thought about Eveline MacDonald for so long, she could at least make sure her only surviving ancestor knew the truth, or at least a better measure of it.

‘Anyway,’ Toby told her. ‘I wanted you to know. Before I leave.’

Rachel nodded. ‘Thank you.’

Forty-Seven

This time when Rachel called, Trudy didn’t have to rush off and they didn’t get interrupted by her bleeper. Rachel told her everything – about the camera obscura room and how Cullen had kept it secret from everyone, about Eveline MacDonald and her tragic story. Trudy listened so silently that a couple of times Rachel had to check she was still on the line.

‘I’m here,’ Trudy said quietly. ‘Just… taking it in. Processing, you know. Carry on.’

Rachel detailed Eveline’s fascination with lighthouses and how the building of this one had helped her through the trauma of losing her only child. When she’d got to the end of all she knew – to what she and Toby surmised about how the fire happened – there was a long silence from the other end of the world.

‘Trudy? Are you all right?’

‘Yes,’ came the reply. ‘Sorry, it’s just… that poor woman. That poor family.’

Rachel smiled slightly. ‘Yes. Although – they were your family.’