‘Zoe was the only woman I’ve ever met who was worth anything. Every woman I was ever with after Zoe was a stain on her memory. You couldn’t bear that I loved her, could you? You had to get in the way. You with your ruinous jealousy. Your hatred. You could have said nothing that night. Zoe would never have known. It was you who kept at her, on and on, with your stupid, sentimental version of “justice”. You ruined your best friend. It was because of what you did, not what I did, that she took her life. You killed her. And now you come to me, thinking you can make terms, do a deal. Well I don’t deal with the devil.’

Honor takes a step towards him. She has been hoping not to have to say the unsayable. All these years she has kept the secret from her daughter because she was afraid that it might kill her. But Christopher has left her with no choice. There is no other route out of this. Telling the secret might be the only way to save her now.

‘Look at Nevis, Christopher.’ Mulholland glances at the figure beside him. ‘Look at her jawline, her eyes, the contours of her mouth. Who does she remind you of?’

Mulholland looks away. She watches his nose twitch, his chin crumple, the implacable look of confidence give way to something more troubled.

‘Nevis, tell Christopher who Zoe Jeffers was.’ Believe me, she thinks, this is not how I wanted to tell you, this is not what I’d planned.

There is confusion scribbled on his face.

In a tremulous voice Nevis says, ‘Zoe was my birth mother.’

‘And when were you born?’

Nevis splutters out the date.

Honor watches Mulholland’s eyes turn inwards. He blinks and checks himself, then turns his head and stares at Nevis.

The air is thrumming now. A helicopter nearing.

‘What’s going on?’ Nevis says, in a pleading voice this time.

‘Tell her, Christopher.’

Mulholland doesn’t speak. She watches the rifle go slack in his hands. The thrum has become an insistent buzz now.

‘It makes no difference,’ he says, his voice hoarse with pain. ‘The only person that ever mattered to me was Zoe.’ Turning his face to Nevis he bellows, ‘How could you betray your only true mother? This woman, this pretend mother, has brainwashed you. There is no honour in this woman…’ he is pointing now. ‘Only envy. Your mother didn’t die in the way you think she did. This woman killed her.’

Nevis blinks and swallows hard, turning first to Mulholland and then to her mother. Honor watches her begin to shake, her shoulders fold in on themselves. The fingers of her right hand come up to her mouth as the words form, too terrible to say out loud.