When she saw him emerge from the vehicle, she knew her fears had been well-founded. Something had happened between him and DI Snyder. Something that had drained all colour from his face, so much so that he resembled a ghostly apparition rather than the man he was.

She wanted to take him in her arms, but knew by the way he approached her that it wouldn’t be welcomed. He’d retreated within himself. That much was obvious.

Once inside, he glanced about him as if checking that this was indeed Beanach, his home. As for the look he bestowed on her, it was one of surprise that she was here at all.

Unsure what to say or do, she sat down at the kitchen table and waited.

After a moment he joined her there, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. She realized with a sinking dread that they were trembling.

He’s in shock, she thought, and rose to draw the kettle onto the ring, planning to serve him something hot and sweet.

Noting her intention, he said, ‘I would rather have a whisky.’

She went to fetch the bottle, gladdened to hear his voice, which sounded strong despite his obvious distress.

She stood a glass and the bottle before him.

‘You pour,’ he said. ‘Two fingers’ worth, please.’

When he raised the glass to his lips, his hands looked more in control of themselves.

‘I have food,’ she said, trying to sound normal. ‘You told me to keep you some.’

He gave her a weak smile. ‘Thank you. Maybe once I’ve told you what happened.’

He marshalled himself, then began. ‘I didn’t tell you the whole story about Ailsa or Caroline, because I thought that if I did, you would leave and I didn’t want that.’

He checked to see her reaction and she nodded at him to go on.

‘I found Caroline in the cemetery this morning near the children’s graves. She revealed she’d told Richard where to find you, hoping he would take you away from here. From me. Then she gave me the impression that because I was drunk the night Ailsa disappeared, something had happened that I’d either forgotten or more likely buried.’

He told her about the broken necklace.

‘I came to next morning with it in my hand, but couldn’t remember how or why I’d taken it from her neck. That’s why I called Snyder. Why I went up there.’

Her heart was beating like a drum in her ears. She dreaded what he would say next, but desperately wanted to hear it, whatever it was.

‘I told him all of that.’ He met her eye. ‘He told me I was no longer a suspect in Ailsa’s murder. That someone had already confessed.’

‘Someone confessed?’ she said, open-mouthed.