Rhona had considered asking if she might borrow Blaze for her walk, although that may have involved questions she wasn’t ready to answer, but, as chance would have it, as she passed the parking place she noticed the black-and-white shaggy shape of the dog down by the stream. Blaze, she knew, wasn’t averse to going off on his own exploring the surrounding countryside when the notion took him.

Rhona drew up and, opening the window, gave the ‘here to me’ call. The big collie, his ears obviously like radar, picked up her voice immediately and, emerging from the gate, headed up the road towards her.

She’d already heard the tale where Blaze had joined a jogger for a six-mile early run, so, promising herself she would text Blaze’s whereabouts, she decided to take the dog with her. Chrissy might be suspicious of her motives for doing that, but then again, Chrissy was always suspicious.

The dog happily jumped up to join her in the jeep, seemingly unperturbed by any lies Rhona would have to tell.

‘I like an assistant who says very little,’ she told the dog, who gave her a winning grin in return.

By the time she’d driven up the steep forest track to the turning circle, the sun had risen and the drizzle had been replaced by a cold wind. Zipping up her cagoule, Rhona ordered the dog out and locked the jeep. The heavy rain the previous evening had reduced the turning circle to mud, and it wasn’t possible to say whether a vehicle had been here since her last visit.

Blaze, thinking they must be making for the forest path, set off that way until Rhona called him back. Quickly registering her intention to climb towards the trig point instead, the dog swiftly took the lead.

Before she got into her stride, Rhona pulled out her mobile and texted Chrissy to say she was out for a walk with Blaze and would see her later. Then she turned off her phone, although judging by the diminishing signal, she was heading out of range anyway.

Within sight of the trig point, she stopped and turned. Up here, close to the hilltop, the ground cover was grass and heather, with the line of the plantation some yards below. On escaping the forest with Alvis, she’d chosen a large rock jutting out of the heather as a marker for their exit point.

And there it was.

From where she stood, there was no visible sign of a break in the trees, but, trusting to memory, she headed for the landmark anyway. The dog, who had waited patiently while she decided her route, now took off, to swiftly disappear among the trees.

Drawing closer, Rhona spotted the route the dog had taken.