“Miss Calder?” It’s the receptionist. “One of our personal trainers can show you round in a few minutes. If you’d like to wait in the leisure club café?” Armed with a map, I head off in the direction she indicates and find myself spilling from the corridor into the café. My attention is immediately taken by the spectacular view across the valley through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. It’s the same view as that from the master bedroom of the Manse, except off-center, which gives me the feeling of something familiar but not quite right. The hotel must be set a little higher up the side of the valley than the Manse, and the higher angle of view allows me to see silver flashes of the little stream that runs through the trees at the bottom of the V-shaped valley. I look to the east, briefly wondering if the angle is such that I will be able to see the Manse—but of course I can’t, otherwise the hotel would be visible from there.

“Stunning, isn’t it?” says a voice at my elbow. I turn to find a young man in sport kit whose impressively bulging muscles are certainly a good advert for the benefit of the gym facilities, at least in the male physique. “I’m Jack. Can I get you a coffee or a tea before we take a tour?”

“Black Americano, please.”

He signals the girl behind the counter, then we settle into two comfortable armchairs by the window. It’s hard to take my eyes off the view, but I force myself to look around. There are perhaps a dozen other people here, ranging from mid-twenties to retirement age. Some are reading the paper, some are tapping on their phones, one has a laptop open. The village doesn’t have a Starbucks. Maybe this is the local substitute.

“So you’ve just moved into the area?” Jack asks in an Irish brogue. He’s leaning in, elbows on the low table between us, hands clasped a few inches below his chin as if waiting to prop it up. We cover the basics while we drink our coffees. He’s a handsome man, though surely a good few years younger than me. Perhaps Carrie would find him attractive, though she probably has an inch on him. I realize I have no idea what type of man Carrie would be attracted to. I have no idea how she conducts her love life at all. Is she a serial monogamist, or a bed-hopper? Does she bring men home? I can’t quite imagine giggling with her about her sexual exploits the morning after, but isn’t that what sisters do?

“Field producer,” Jack says with a slight frown, as if trying to get a grip on the words.

“Yes. For television news at ITV.”