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‘If you want to hear ninety thousand words of romantic angst, then fine,’ Katie said.

‘Something shorter is probably a good idea,’ Wanda remarked, delving into the truffle box.

‘Well,’ said Ned with a weary sigh, ‘I could tell you a bit more about Millican Dalton. Have I mentioned I’m writing a screenplay about him?’ he said innocently.

‘Not much and we’d never have guessed,’ Katie said, but with good humour. Listening was about all any of them were fit for after their excesses. Arlo was out of the room so he didn’t have to be polite and sit there, so it was the ideal time to indulge Ned. There was no denying that he was very entertaining when he was allowed to be.

Jess tucked her legs under her. ‘I’d love to hear more about Millican himself. He sounds quite a character.’

Athene walked back in and sat down. ‘I’d like to hear it too. Who knows? There might be a book of the film.’

‘Steady on, I don’t have the green light from the production company yet but as you’re forcing me, I’ll tell you how I got the idea. It’s going to be largely a cast of one and that’s for a very good reason. He lived alone in a cave for a start, so he must have grown used to the sound of his own voice – which means, as I’m sure you’ll agree, the character is perfect for me.’

Everyone burst out laughing and Ned warmed to his theme, telling them about Dalton, the eccentric recluse who gave up his job in Buckinghamshire and made a home in a cave above Borrowdale.

‘Imagine the constant drip-drip of water and the incessant Lakeland rain, the snow cutting him off from civilisation, the long, dark, lonely nights on his own, trapped with his own thoughts. Imagine spending Christmas Day there, alone, watching woodsmoke spiral from the valley chimneys, hearing the distant church bells and longing to be part of it – or being relieved you aren’t …’ Ned paused for dramatic effect, scanning his rapt audience.

Katie wanted to giggle. Ned in full flow was quite something.

‘He wasn’t always on his own though, was he?’

Faces turned to the doorway where Arlo stood with Pongo at his side.

‘He was also a pioneer. He led groups around the Lakes and encouraged women to join in and take the lead on climbs. He was one of the first people to guide groups on adventure tours. In fact, he was a bit of a celebrity,’ Arlo added as he tucked his phone into his pocket.

‘Of course. I was getting to that part,’ Ned said. ‘I’m interested in the contrast between his decision to live as a recluse and the desire to share his love of adventure and the great outdoors. Perhaps he enjoyed being a minor celebrity. I want to try to get inside his psyche: why did he never marry? Was there something more than a love of the outdoors that drove him to leave a safe, honeyed suburbia for a life of seclusion in the wild north? Was there a woman – or man – behind that decision?’

Arlo took a second before replying. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted. It’s time Dalton had more attention. Please, carry on.’

He sat down on a chair opposite Katie. Pongo ran to her and licked her hand.

‘I could but you actually live here. You must know as much about him as anyone?’

‘No, really, I don’t,’ Arlo said hastily, clearly regretting that the spotlight was now on him. ‘I’ve a passing interest but not enough to write about him and I definitely have no insight as to what made him want to live in the cave.’

‘We went up there the other day and lived to tell the tale. It’s a creepy old place if I’m honest, dank and lonely.’

Katie agreed with every word. She’d been keen to get out of the cave, and not only because it felt creepy.

‘I’m sure the park authorities would soon close it off if they thought there was any danger,’ Arlo said softly, catching Katie’s eye before quickly glancing away.

Meanwhile, the others were watching the whole exchange between the two men like the spectators in a gladiators’ arena.

Ned’s eyes gleamed. ‘Are you a caving expert, Arlo?’

Arlo seemed taken aback. ‘Um. I—’

Katie remembered what Arlo had told her about his time in the Army. ‘Ned,’ she murmured.

Ned groaned and put his hands over his face. ‘Oh God, you are a bloody cave expert.’

‘I don’t like the word “expert”,’ Arlo said quietly.

Everyone’s eyes lasered in on him, which Katie knew instinctively was exactly what he wouldn’t want. Yet she also knew it wasn’t her job to defend him and, selfishly, she was desperate to know even more about his background and life before the Island House.

‘I don’t like calling myself an expert but I did do some caving when I was an Army reservist.’

Ned sat up, eyes keen as a hawk’s. ‘You were in the Army.’