After she’d put the phone down to Ruthgow, she immediately rang Adam, who had sounded his usual cynical self, warning her not to take it too seriously, that it didn’t mean anything, it could be a fingerprint from ages ago, and she found she couldn’t tell him the rest. He’d only find a way to downplay it and she needed something. She needed hope.

She’d been distracted momentarily by the arrival of a couple wanting to rent a caravan. It was unusual at this time of year: it gets very cold and windy up here as the field with the camping site has views of the sea, although the occasional punter did turn up, usually a rambler who was braving the cliff walks. But it wasn’t until Easter that business began to pick up and that was still four weeks away.

The couple who turned up were young, around Heather’s age. They looked mismatched: him tall and gangly with glasses and not much to say, and her pretty, petite and bubbly, talking for both of them. She’d asked a few probing questions about Heather, saying she’d read about it in the newspaper. It made Margot wonder, as she showed them to a caravan, if they were journalists. Even so, she wasn’t about to turn away their business. If the newspaper they worked for was foolish enough to pay for them to stay, she’d take their money, thank you very much. But they wouldn’t get a word out of her. And she knows Adam would never talk. Sheila has been a friend for years – yes, she can be a bit of a gossip, but she’s loyal. Margot made sure she was polite to the couple, but she evaded their questions expertly – she’s had enough practice this last week – telling them where she was if they needed anything, not that they should: the caravans are well stocked, with a running shower and hot water.

But when she got back to the dark, empty house she realized there was nobody to call. She’s definitely found out who her friends are since this happened. Women from her shooting club, whom she’s known since she moved here, have shunned her. Even the postman, whom she’s been chatting to for twenty years and is always so cheery, avoided eye contact when she saw him scuttling up the path yesterday. And then there are the others, friends who have lost touch over the years now ringing up to get the lowdown. Pam had popped in briefly two days ago, but had seemed edgy and uncomfortable, going out of her way to make sure she didn’t utter Heather’s name.