In truth, I knew very little about the camp he spoke about. I knew a POW camp had been built a couple of miles from Gilsland during World War Two but that was as much as I had read.

‘It weren’t just a few soldiers, love. These were the senior Nazis – the U-boat diehards who had been Hitler Youth. It was a De-Nazification Camp. They came here as prisoners to learn how to be anything but a Nazi. They worked the land round here. Went out in work gangs. Some of them stayed. When the war ended they were allowed to go home or they could do what many did. Married a local girl and made a life. There’s a gadgie works the dust carts in Brampton. Bit of an accent but other than that you wouldn’t know he weren’t a local. The war ended and times changed but Fairfax, well …’

‘He’d lost his son,’ I said, understanding what Nixon was trying to say.

‘No, I don’t mean he held a grudge,’ said Nixon, shaking his head. ‘The opposite. Sought them out. Asked questions. Always scribbling.’

I suddenly felt cold, standing in the window with my wrists touching the cold metal. I moved into the centre of the kitchen and didn’t feel any better for it. I was as agitated as Nixon. I wanted him to tell me what he thought.

‘If you’re concerned there was something more to his death, you should tell Chivers,’ I said, bluntly. ‘He might listen to you.’

He scoffed at that. ‘Chivers? Man’s a jobsworth. Does as he’s told and can barely lever his fat arse out of his car. He wants it easy. Always has.’ He screwed up his face again. ‘I’m talking to you because you’re not from here. Because you’ve got no reason to think there was any explanation for his death other than an accident. And yet you seem to. You think there’s something to dig into. And maybe that’s got me thinking. I don’t know. Maybe I just wish my friend hadn’t died.’

He turned his back on me at that, manoeuvring himself so I was looking at his shoulder. ‘Maybe I just want you to ask a few questions, like Fairfax would.’ He spun back to me, narrowing his eyes. ‘You said you saw a body. After the tree fell.’

I pressed my lips together. Nodded.

‘And it weren’t there when you got back?’

I shook my head.

‘And Fairfax had been there in the time you took your eyes off the site, yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘So Fairfax might have moved it,’ he said, cautiously.

I stayed silent. Listened to the ticking of the clock. Shivered, as if I was staring at my own grave.

‘Why would he do that?’ I asked, at last.