A moment’s silence followed before Naomi changed the subject. ‘I was surprised to hear that Maya Villan’s here. I assume she must be staying in the village. Maybe at the hotel?’

‘Maya Villan?’ Greg said, realizing this was his chance to discover who that persona of Joanne’s actually was.

‘The writer,’ Naomi said. ‘She emerged from the woods near the loch. Aidan knows her and introduced her to the sunseekers. Poppy was very excited to meet her in person. She writes a fabulous blog, but there are no images of her on it. Perhaps she’s planning a piece on Blackrig coming out of lockdown.’ She was looking quizzically at him as though he should know. ‘Have you met her?’ she added.

‘Maya Villan? No, can’t say I have,’ he said.

Naomi shrugged. ‘No matter, I just like her writing. I’ll be interested to hear if she blogs or publishes something about Blackrig. I’ll watch out for it.’

So will I, Greg thought.

On the way back to Ard Choille, the warm wind picked up, buffeting them as they descended. Colin had gone ahead with the laden garron.

As they neared the Bothy, Greg spotted a thin plume of smoke rising from Blackrig woods not far from the village hall. Who the hell would light a fire in the tinderbox that was currently the woods near the village?

The beeping of his pager followed almost immediately, alerting him to what he’d just seen.

‘I have a call-out,’ he quickly explained. ‘The local fire service. Some idiot’s lit a fire in the woods.’ He glanced at Stratton. ‘You can make your own way back, I assume? Colin will deal with your kill,’ he told Naomi.

Not waiting for an answer, he took off at a run, shortening the distance to the Land Rover by avoiding the route via the Bothy.

Reaching the vehicle, he could already hear the whine of the siren. Fortunately the local fire engine serving Blackrig and the surrounding remote villages was housed in the village car park not far from the hall.

Muttering obscenities about idiots who came on holiday only to ignore the signs expressly forbidding them to light campfires in the woods, he roared through the Party House gates and sped down the single track road towards the village.

Greg

Why would anyone deliberately light a fire in the village woods, and apparently so close to the hall?

Most problems with fires were from wild camping by tourists. The woods round Blackrig consisted of fairly dense pine and were floored by thick blaeberry bushes. No one would consider trying to put up a tent in there.

So might it have been lit on purpose, rather than caused by accident? Maybe because of the police presence in the hall?