‘Then you know I lied about Ailsa and that we were having an affair. I broke it off because of the baby. She wanted me to meet her in the woods after the ceilidh. I didn’t go. She turned up at Beanach. We made love for the last time and she left. I never saw her again.’

There was, he realized, a huge relief in telling her the truth, whatever happened now.

‘I found her necklace and the scan of Mac,’ she said quietly.

‘So you’d already guessed?’

He imagined her feelings when she’d seen what was in the envelope. How many thoughts and questions must have tumbled through her head? Especially if she’d just discovered she was pregnant.

But you mustn’t mention that now, he told himself. Let her be the one to talk.

‘Caroline believes you did rape Ailsa. That you were chasing her and not the other way round. That when you didn’t get what you wanted, you just took it.’

He wanted to tell her that Caroline would say anything to get her to leave Blackrig. To leave him, despite the fact she knew they would never be together again.

‘She said that now she knew the truth, she was frightened for me,’ she continued. ‘I told her I was planning on leaving anyway. She offered to put me up for tonight and take me to the airport in the morning.’

He silently marvelled at Caroline’s dedication. First threatening not to give him an alibi, then saying she had, then telling Joanne he was a rapist. No doubt she’d mentioned murder too. All this he thought, but didn’t say.

‘I’ll take you to the airport tomorrow, or the train station. Anywhere you want to go.’ Noting her weariness, he added, ‘You need to sleep. Go on up. I’ll take the couch.’

She seemed to muster herself then, although her face remained too pale for his comfort.

‘You’re all in. Let me help you.’

Ignoring his proffered hand, she rose wearily and made for the stairs. He stayed there, listening for the creaks as she climbed, thanking God that he’d put away the drawer and its scattered contents. Waiting until he heard the bedroom door close, he then collected his jacket and went outside.

He needed to think and the natural world, his world, was the best place to do it. Fetching his rifle from the shed, he set off towards the woods.

The stars were out, a milky moon too. The sultry warmth of the day had dissipated, but as soon as he entered the woods, the sharp smell of pine hit his nostrils. Darker among the trees, he stood for as long as it took his eyes to adjust to the place he knew so well.