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to be like Gavin: adventurous and independent. She’s quite a little madam already. Far more confident than Lucy was at that age. Into everything.’
    â€˜Is Gavin a sportsman?’
    â€˜He was when he was younger. Used to race motorbikes – speedway, down at Poole – and tried his hand at microlight flying and paragliding.’
    â€˜A bit of a thrill seeker,’ Daniel observed.
    â€˜Before I met him. He had to give it up, though. Back trouble. His chiropractor told him if he didn’t slow down, he’d end up crippled.’
    â€˜That must have been frustrating for him.’
    â€˜It was.’
    â€˜So how did he amuse himself round here? Apart from chasing poachers, I mean.’
    â€˜Well, like I said, he used to take the gun out after rabbits, or go dog racing with his mates, but I think he does get bored sometimes,’ Jenny said, starting to clear the table. ‘He says he isn’t, but I’m not sure. He can be very short-tempered at times.’
    â€˜The kids miss him, don’t they?’ Daniel had picked that up clearly. He stood up and began to help gather up the dirty dishes.
    â€˜Yes. He’s a good father – to all of them, not just Izzy. It’s really hard on Harry and Lucy having this happen again. After Colin, I mean. It’s made them very clingy. And I keep thinking  . . .’ She paused, her voice breaking. ‘The thing is, the doctors have warned me that when Gavin comes round, if he does, he mightn’t be the same. They don’t know what damage may have been done.’ She fished in her pocket for a handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘That’s the worst part – the waiting and the not knowing.’
    Daniel turned over with difficulty in his sleeping bag and, with his foot, nudged Taz, who was snoring. The dog stretched and sighed before settling back against Daniel’s legs once again. Moments later, the heavy breathing had resumed.
    Rising early the next morning, Daniel took Taz for his morning constitutional and then drove to a farm shop café he’d noticed the day before, on the main road that ran through the neighbouring village of Lower Ditton. Tucking into a full English breakfast with a large latte at his elbow, he was able to contemplate his day’s labours with fortitude, if not enthusiasm.
    Out in the car, Taz gazed soulfully at the door through which Daniel had disappeared into the shop, unhappy at being excluded even though he had already been fed, and towards the end of his meal, Daniel folded half a bread roll and a rasher of bacon into a paper napkin and slid it into the pocket of his jacket to appease the dog.
    Half an hour later, Daniel was back at Forester’s and hard at work. An early morning foray into the shed behind the cottage had turned up a selection of tools and the discovery that someone had been there before him. The thin panels of the door had been newly splintered and the padlock that had secured it hung drunkenly on its hasp, the whole set-up entirely inadequate to keep any but the most ineffectual thief at bay.
    What, if anything, they had taken, it was impossible to say, but perfectly useful tools had been left behind, so it seemed probable that someone had broken in just to see what was stored behind the locked door.
    What Daniel did find, somewhat surprisingly, were two or three black bin bags absolutely bulging with empty beer bottles and cans. Had the previous occupants been heavy drinkers? From Jenny’s description of them it seemed unlikely. Daniel closed the door on them and took his tools into the cottage to start work.
    At around eleven o’clock, with a muzzy headache and feeling slightly sick from the creosote fumes, he made himself a cup of coffee and took it into the front garden to get some fresh air.
    Taz, who had been sitting for the most part in the open back of the car, fawned round him and begged for a biscuit from a packet Daniel had