‘He said he could remember these horrible dreams. He dreamt that he was running down a hill, down towards a large town, and there were creatures flying above him: masses of them. A swarm, flying low, dive-bombing him as he ran, scraping the top of his head, getting caught up in his hair. He said they were large and black, like solid shadows, but he didn’t know if they were birds or bats. He’d get to the bottom of the hill, the creatures swooping at him from all directions, and fall over onto his face. But at the point when he’d usually wake up, the dream would start again. Looping over and over.’

‘Jesus. How awful.’

‘I know.’

They were silent for a moment, looking up at the crow, which suddenly took off, its huge wings fanning the moisture-thick air, propelling it away over the graveyard.

‘Are you still having those dreams about the gingerbread house?’ Jamie asked.

‘No. Not for a while. I haven’t had any dreams for a while.’

They took their photographs, but the mention of Paul and his coma-dreams had spoiled the mood. Later, Jamie would study the pictures and see, behind Kirsty’s smile, a hint of something else. It looked very much like fear.

‘Shall we go back to the B&B?’ Jamie asked, taking Kirsty’s hand.

As they were leaving the graveyard, Kirsty paused to look at a final gravestone. There were two names on the stone. One was of a woman – Elizabeth Anne Robertson, born 1901, died 1924. So young, Kirsty thought. But beneath her name was another name – Jane Elizabeth Robertson. Born 1924. Died 1924. It took a moment for it to sink in. She was looking at the grave of a woman and her dead baby.

Beloved wife and daughter. The Lord took you together. May you both Rest in Peace.

Jamie pulled her away just as the sun retreated behind a cloud, casting a shadow over him and Kirsty and the grave; merging their shadows together while above them the crow circled before returning to the church roof. They could hear it caw as they pushed open the door of the B&B and retreated inside. In a single dark moment, their bubble of happiness had been burst.

Chapter Eighteen

Eighteen

‘Somebody’s been in here.’