It isn’t. It’s not going to work. I have to leave her, and I can’t bear it. I don’t know how it can work. “What do you mean?”

“I mean are you going to try an LDR?” Arjun said. At Madeleine’s blank look, he said, “Long-distance relationship. Jeremy’s company moved him to Edinburgh, and it was almost six months before I could follow him, but we managed. Still, I suppose your circumstances are different…”

“And they say Harry Duggan’s the nosy one,” Jeremy said.

“What? At least I ask, instead of poking about for a confession like the bloody police. Madeleine? Are you all right?”

Her hands were stiff around her coffee mug. She must have the strangest look on her face, but that was fitting when an obvious solution landed in front of an oblivious person.

Hæra hadn’t mentioned an “LDR” either, so at least she wasn’t the only one. Unless Hæra had, in fact, thought of it, and hadn’t said anything, because she didn’t like the idea.

There was a lot to dislike about it. It would be incredibly difficult. But the Gospel of Matthew said, “With God all things are possible.”

God might be chancier than before, but possibility seemed bigger than ever.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I have a lot to think about. That’s all.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

“Supper smells good.” Hæra kicked the mud from her boots and left them at the cottage’s back door, which they’d finally replaced. “What are you cooking?”

Madeleine was just removing a tray from the oven. “Lamb chops.”

“From the farm?” Hæra was only joking. Madeleine could be sentimental about the livestock. She said it was hard to eat something whose face she’d seen.

“Yep.” Madeleine met Hæra’s surprise with a smile. “Just got our shipment from the butcher. I bought rosemary at the provisions store. They should come out nicely.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Madeleine Laurent?” Hæra asked, rehearsing a phrase she’d heard on television. It seemed appropriate.

“You know, I’ve been wondering that. Want to pour some wine? There’s a bottle in the fridge.”

They’d never had wine with dinner before. Hæra was still dodgy on the social cues of alcohol. It could mark a celebration, as if Madeleine’s decision would both make them happy. But everyone had gathered in the pub after Jonathan’s funeral too, so perhaps they’d both be sad.

Her stomach had been in knots all day. Madeleine had been running errands and working in the office while Hæra tended to the livestock. Hæra knew why: Madeleine needed space between them so she could think. What if she’d thought herself right off Jorsay forever?