The woman agreed, reluctantly, to leave out some bread and cheese and cold meats. Then, turning down her offer of coffee, the four of them thanked her for the meal, and left the table. At some point – Roy had not noticed when – the Vicomte had wheeled himself out of the room.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Kaitlynn hurried on up to check on Noah, who had dropped off to sleep quickly after having his supper earlier. Roy turned to Cleo. ‘I’m just going to give it one more go. I’ll try to start the car again. If not, I’ll walk down the drive until I get a signal – sounds like the rain has stopped.’

‘You look tired out, my love. Come to bed, you can’t do anything more tonight.’

‘I’ve got to keep trying,’ he said, quietly, so Kaitlynn wouldn’t hear. ‘You’ve seen how upset that poor girl is, and I’m worried too. Just give me ten minutes – one last try, OK?’

Reluctantly, she said, ‘Go for it.’

‘I’ll see you upstairs as soon as I can.’ He kissed her, then walked across to the front door. Now that the rain had stopped, he would take a look under the bonnet and see if he could fix the problem. Just possibly a battery lead had been shaken off from the bumpy drive up here, although he thought that was unlikely. But surely in such a remote place as this, the owners would have a charger, or at least some jump leads?

If he couldn’t fix it, he’d have a look in some of the outbuildings – there must be garages here for their cars and lawnmowers. One of them would have a charger or leads, surely? If not, he decided he would walk down the drive until he got a signal on the phone.

The two cats, with the eerie yellow eyes, that he had seen outside the front door earlier when they’d arrived, were sitting either side of the door again, this time on the inside. They looked like they were guarding it.

Roy approached the door warily, half expecting them to spring at him at any second. But they did not move. They just glared in silence. Behind him, he suddenly heard a panting and scraping sound.

He turned and saw the elderly dog pulling itself along on its front legs, dragging its hind legs behind. Both cats shot off across the hall as he pulled the heavy door open. The dog hauled itself out and passed him, bumping down the steps, then went off into the darkness, scrunching along the gravel. The poor bloody thing was clearly very ill, he thought. Much as he loved animals, shouldn’t it have been put down by a vet?