It took her a while to settle. She still felt that they were the centre of attention, and the inquisitive glances from other diners made her feel uncomfortable, thrown. As if she’d stumbled into a surprise party, only to realize that hers was the birthday being celebrated. She supposed the murders had made them objects of interest. Eventually, after a glass of wine, she began to relax and take in her surroundings. Marcus was having a great time. She saw that he viewed these social occasions in Shetland with the same clear, anthropological eye as when he’d shared supper with Berber villagers in Morocco. Perhaps he’d plan a trip here for rich American and German tourists, persuade the boat club and Lowrie’s friend to re-create this dinner just for them. She wondered if there might be something slightly patronizing in his attitude to his hosts; he was an observer rather than a participant and she sensed that he found the local customs faintly amusing. But then she was an observer too.

Lowrie and Caroline seemed to know most of the people in the room. Polly recognized some of them from the wedding party. There was Lowrie’s cousin, the chatty young woman with the baby, and her husband. All the talk was of the newly-weds’ move back to Shetland and the new house in Vidlin. Nobody mentioned the murders. Perhaps the frenetic jollity, the too-brittle laughter, were an attempt to cover the awkward fact that the hosts knew they could be entertaining potential killers. In lulls in the conversation Polly heard Caroline and Lowrie gossiping about mutual friends, university politics and illicit love affairs. It was as if Eleanor hadn’t died and normal life had been resumed.

Polly was sitting next to Caroline on one side and a large woman wearing a loose silk tunic in a vivid purple on the other. Caroline was talking to a friend across the table.

‘So you work at the Sentiman Library?’ The large woman in purple had a gentle voice, very musical and clear, despite the babble in the background.

Again Polly was thrown. How could this stranger know what she did for a living? Were Shetlanders all mind-readers? She had the sudden thought that she must be imagining the whole scene and that she’d dreamed the stay on Unst, from the moment of their arrival in the islands. Nothing here was real. Soon she’d wake up to find that Eleanor was still alive.