He took a slug from his water bottle and thought of the morning he and Joanne had swum in the green loch together. He’d suspected then that what lay between them was special, despite how it had begun, and he now made himself a vow that he would do everything in his power to support her, even accompanying her to London, should she allow him to do so.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Fergus, a man not given to expletives, drew all their eyes to what lay before them.

In the distance, they could just see the tops of the tallest trees south of the green lochan whipping in the east wind, sending their sparks to ignite their neighbours both near and far.

‘At least we’ll have the loch water for our pumps,’ Finn said hopefully from behind Greg.

‘But only if we can get near the lochan,’ came a reply, which Greg recognized as Josh’s voice.

Back on the single-track road that climbed towards Ard Choille, Greg spotted a car at Beanach. So either Kath or someone else was there to pick up Joanne and his dogs.

He gave a sigh of relief at that. He would be happier knowing she was safely in Blackrig.

Joanne

Time is not a constant, she thought.

In the shed, her eyes glued on him, time had appeared to move at a snail’s space, in direct opposition to her rapid breathing and racing thoughts.

Yet despite her speeding heart, she’d been too slow to flee, her limbs not reacting quickly enough to her silent command.

He’d taken his time driving up the hill to Beanach. Now, having captured her, he was driving like a maniac on the dirt track, the undercarriage scraping the raised centre, small stones rattling against the car to fly off in all directions.

She clasped the seat, her nails sinking into the upholstery, her stomach lurching up and down and threatening to arrive in her mouth.

‘Please,’ she managed. ‘Slow down or I’ll be sick.’

A quick glance sideways and an easing of the accelerator followed her plea, suggesting the sheen of sweat on her white face had warned him that what she’d said just might be true.

He slowed. Not for her benefit, she knew, but to protect the interior of his car.

‘You’re sure it’s mine?’ he said.

‘I am.’ She made herself sound certain, despite the fact she wasn’t.

They had crested the hill and now had a view of the tarred road below. A wind was whipping smoke down the valley and she could see that the outbreaks she’d spotted earlier from the hill were gaining ground, and rapidly.

‘It’ll be at Ard Choille soon. Aidan’s not still there, is he?’ she said in a horrified voice.

He didn’t bother to answer.