Dylan shuts the kitchen door behind him and leans on the Rayburn. He pushes his mop of hair back from his face. ‘Right,’ he says, the tension showing in his voice. ‘I really need to know what just happened.’ When Tilda says nothing, he tries again. ‘Look, maybe I’m just shaky because I narrowly missed having my head broken open, but I’m having trouble making sense of things. What I do know is, I’m in one piece, nothing smashed or crushed, no bones snapped, standing here in your kitchen pretty hale and hearty, and the fact that I am is down to you, Tilda. It’s because of something you did.’

She gets up, leaving the dog, and busies herself with finding small logs from the basket.

‘Tilda?’

‘I don’t know! You think I can explain it? Any of it?’

‘Any of what? This has something to do with what you saw in the Landrover, doesn’t it? Did you see the same thing again, down there at the dig? What made you jump into the trench like that?’

‘This is going to sound completely crazy.’ She shakes her head, pulling open the fire door and jamming wood inside. Smoke billows into the room.

‘I’m prepared for crazy,’ Dylan assures her. ‘I just felt crazy whistle past my ear. I just saw crazy stop a heavy object in midair.’

‘What makes you think I have the answers?’

‘Okay, stop. Just stop.’ Gently, he shuts the stove door, takes Tilda’s hands in his and makes her stand and face him. ‘Small steps. First, what did you see?’

‘Lots of things. Moving about. Swirling. There was so much happening, so much that was so powerful and strange. Maddest thing is, it wasn’t scary, not that, but then … I saw … someone. Someone … bad.’

‘The same someone you saw before? In the back of Linny?’

Tilda nods.

‘You think they came out of the grave?’

‘I think she was trying to. I think she would have if they hadn’t dropped the stone back in place.’ She meets his gaze now. ‘I think she will. When Lucas opens that grave again she’ll come out. And I won’t be able to stop her. And she’s dangerous, Dylan. Those lights didn’t fall on their own. We both know that. There was no wind, no one knocked them over. It was … whoever, whatever came out of that hole in the ground.’

‘But you…’ he squeezes her hands. ‘You did something … amazing. How…?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Have you ever done anything like that before?’

‘Of course not!’ she says, more sharply than she meant to.

‘Oh? So are we not, even now, going to talk about a boat motor that wouldn’t and then would start, or a clock that keeps stopping, or power supplies that blow?’