Susie had come close to going home then-and now, sitting in the car outside the extraordinary mass of gleaming stone that was the new Loganaich Castle, she turned to her twin and her eyes were as bleak as Kirsty had ever seen them.

‘Kirsty, what are we doing here? Let’s go back to America. We were dumb to come.’

‘We’ve come so far, and you know we can’t go back to America now. No airline will take you until after the baby’s born. Let’s find a bed for the night and come back in the morning.’

‘Let’s go back to Sydney in the morning.’

‘Susie, no. You can’t lose every link with Rory.’

‘I already have. And you heard the postmistress. Rory had lost any link to his uncle.’

‘Rory spoke of Angus and his aunt with affection. The postmistress said Angus was devastated to learn Rory was dead. You have to see him.’

‘No.’

‘Susie, please…’

‘The gates are opening again,’ Susie said, in a voice that said she didn’t care. ‘Someone’s coming out. We need to move.’

Kirsty turned to see. There was a dusty Land Rover emerging from the forecourt out onto the cobbled driveway leading to the road. Kirsty had driven as close as possible so Susie could watch her as she’d knocked, and the cobblestones were only a car-width wide. Their car was blocking the driveway-meaning the Land Rover had to stop and wait for them to move.

The gates were swinging closed again now behind the Land Rover. This was apparently a castle with every modern convenience. Electronic sensors must be overriding manual operations.

There was still no access.

OK. They’d go. Kirsty started the engine, and then glanced one last time at the Land Rover.

The man who’d slammed the gate on her was at the wheel. His lanky brown dog was sitting beside him. The dog’s dumb, goofy-almost grinning-face was at odds with the man’s expression of grim impatience. His fingers were drumming on the steering-wheel as he waited for her to move.