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‘If you go into Keswick, there should be plenty of places you can just rock up at,’ Arlo put in, having recovered. ‘Or there’s a couple of old Lakeland pubs in the villages that don’t take bookings for lunch. The Pheasant or the Poacher are good and you just turn up and wait.’

‘They sound great for a change. Do you mind hanging on a bit?’ Katie asked Arlo. ‘Is elevenish OK?’

‘Fine by me … Ned’s asked me to take him back to the Bothy first so I’ll come back for you.’

‘Sounds like a lot of trouble,’ Katie said.

‘It’s really not. I’ll see you later.’

Katie went upstairs to get ready but found Ned in the library first.

‘I heard you’d asked Arlo to take you home.’

‘I did. I – have work to do. Yes, on Boxing Day. There are some thoughts about Dalton that I want to get down before they elude me.’

Katie nodded, knowing the urge to get words on paper while they were fresh and powerful.

‘I’ll probably see you tomorrow then,’ she said, grasping for something polite yet neutral. She didn’t want to commit to anything, but nor to sound dismissive. ‘And we’ll find some space to talk properly?’

Ned smiled, a little desperately. ‘Yes, I think that would be a good idea. And, Katie?’

‘Yes?’

‘I really am sorry for crashing your Christmas.’

For the rest of the day, Katie wondered if he’d sounded sad or merely resigned.

The Poacher proved to be everything Katie and the others could have wanted in a Lakeland pub: very old, very cosy, cramped and heaving with locals glad to be let off the lead after a day of family festivities. No one had turkey and they all returned home full of bonhomie and, apart from Athene who drove, mellower than when they’d set off.

Katie managed to find a few moments with Wanda, who was browsing the bookshelves in the library and had found an old Wainwright walking guide.

When Katie appeared, she hastily put it back in its place.

‘Am I disturbing you?’ she asked.

‘No, I was only looking at all these walking books. I can’t imagine devoting your whole life to walking these fells like that Millican chap. He must have been trying to escape from something.’

‘Did Uncle Ian like walking?’ Katie asked.

‘Not really. He liked playing cricket when he was young and watching the football. He didn’t mind a stroll when we were away in the caravan but he never wanted to explore much. I’m not criticising him, though,’ Wanda said firmly. ‘We had some lovely times together in the van.’

‘Do you ever think of taking it away yourself?’

Wanda sighed. ‘I’d love to but Ian always did the towing. My WI friend, Karen, said she’d come with me if I did the driving. I have wondered … Karen says the Camping and Caravanning Club do towing courses to give you confidence and I might have a go. Do you fancy coming with me?’

‘Me? Tow a caravan?’ Katie laughed.

‘You have driven in London so you can’t be scared …’

‘I do drive there sometimes,’ Katie admitted, dismayed at having been cornered. ‘Look, if you really want me to, I will have a go.’

Wanda beamed. ‘If Karen won’t come and do it with me, I’ll hold you to that.’

Katie smiled, secretly quaking inside at the thought of driving Wanda’s Volvo with a massive great caravan behind it. Still, she had to put her money where her mouth was as she had another proposition for her aunt.

‘Auntie. Shall we sit down?’

Wanda frowned in suspicion. ‘Why? What have you got to say? Nothing awful, I hope!’