‘Have it your way, then.’ Tilda stuffs the leash in her pocket, shuts what little warmth there is inside the kitchen, hitches her backpack onto her shoulder, jams on her sunglasses and strides purposefully after her dog. She has a clear plan in her head, and such method and action have given her some much needed courage. First, she needs to find out about women who were murdered, or maybe killed in battle, in the area, particularly if there are any ghost stories about them. If she is going to deal with being visited by someone so frightening, she has to know who exactly it is she is dealing with. Next, she needs to try to get those Welsh words, or at least the one she can recall, translated. As she is unable to use her own computer, she has decided to call on Professor Williams again. This time her questions will be considerably more specific. She knows this may mean she will end up talking to someone she barely knows about being visited by a terrifying phantom, herself being the cause of electrical and mechanical mayhem, and the other visions that have troubled her these past few weeks. He may think her quite mad. It is a chance she is prepared to take. Later, she will go to the village stores and stock up on food, as the cupboard at home is now depressingly bare.

The easy downhill walk is both warming and invigorating. As they descend into the valley, the ground is a little warmer, but still sparkling with frost, and the lake itself bears a thin glazing of ice. All the waterbirds have been forced to paddle on the icy shoreline. There is no wind, but only a distant, cooling winter sun, and Tilda and Thistle puff clouds of hot breath before them as they walk. The brightness and beauty of the landscape lift Tilda’s spirits, but her happier mood is short-lived when she finds that the professor is not at home. Having knocked on the low oak front door several times, she walks around to the mullioned kitchen window, pressing her hand upon it as she peers in. There is no sign of either light or movement. Thistle busies herself sniffing out a mouse trail in the vegetable patch.