‘I see you still haven’t bothered to get this wall repaired,’ Nick said. He looked at Jane. ‘Whoever originally built this was a crap bricklayer. It’s uneven and the cement mix is so poor it’s crumbling away.’ Nick rubbed his hand against the bricks, then tapped with his knuckle, causing some of the cement to crumble onto the floor. ‘You need to get this looked at, Dad, before it falls down.’

‘I know, son. I’ll get one of the brickies on the site to have a look at it.’

Nick shook his head. ‘You’ve said that before. I’ll speak to Lee tomorrow and ask him to have a look; that way, I know it will get done.’

Thomas frowned. ‘I’m not totally incapable. I’ll speak to him myself, thank you,’ he snapped.

Jane wasn’t sure if he was agitated because Nick had mentioned Lee’s name in front of her, or if this was the normal way they talked to each other.

‘It’s quite a spooky place,’ Jane said. ‘Nick mentioned the bodies of the dead nuns were kept down here,’ she added, to see what Thomas might add.

‘Apparently so,’ he said. ‘I was told they would hold an all-night prayer vigil down here for the departed on the evening before the funeral. I’m glad to say there were no bodies or coffins left behind when I bought the place.’

‘Some of his friends think it might be haunted,’ Nick grinned.

Thomas laughed. ‘The only ghostly occurrence down here has been the disappearance of some of my more expensive wines, which bizarrely occurs whenever Nick visits me,’ he said.

‘I get the blame for everything, Jane . . . even the ghosts,’ Nick replied with a smile. He turned to his father. ‘The tunnel on the map appeared to extend to the burnt-out buildings.’ Jane was relieved he’d brought it up, so she didn’t have to.

Thomas nodded. ‘It did, son, but our survey at the time revealed the fire caused the collapse of the tunnel under the outbuildings. That’s why the current build is well away from the old buildings, which will be turned into a garden and a car park.’

If that was true, Jane realised, then if the nun’s body had been moved using the tunnel, it must have been before the fire, so it must have been done by someone connected with the convent.

‘Do you like red wine and cheese, Jane?’ Thomas asked.

‘Yes,’ she said.

He picked a bottle from the rack and held it out. ‘Would you like to try a ’61 Médoc with some camembert and English cheddar?’

‘Thank you, that would be lovely,’ she replied, sensing he was trying to impress her.