Maggie sinks into the shadows outside the west door and waits, listening to the chatter as a group of Japanese visitors leave, followed by an American family, then a middle-aged couple from Yorkshire.
Broon and Odi are the last, as she knew they would be, and unlike all those who left before, there is no sense of purpose to their movements. They hover on the steps before descending carefully, like elderly people who have learned to fear stairs. Neither notice her as they step out of the lee of the building into the full force of the cold air. Odi is clutching a supermarket carrier bag.
Maggie expects them to make their way out into the main part of town, where lights offer a glimpse of cheerfulness and the narrow streets some shelter from the elements. Instead they go through the dark archway and Maggie slips along in their wake. They turn again immediately, away from the town, through a second dark tunnel towards the Bishop’s Palace and Maggie loses sight of them.
The square is almost empty now. No one wants to linger on such a night. Through the windows of the Crown she can see people who are warm and fed, among friends. She sends a smile up to the man she has no way of knowing is watching her, and follows Broon and Odi.
There is something portal-like about the tunnel, because to step through it is to leave the town behind and enter a medieval world of walled gardens, moated defences and impenetrable stone walls. The moon has risen and she can see its reflection in the gently rippling black waters of the moat.
A sudden flurry on the water catches her attention. The moat attracts water birds, gulls from the nearby coast and moorhens that fly in over the meadows. There is also a resident population of swans who are fed from the gatehouse daily, summoned by the ringing of a bell.
The homeless pair are feeding the swans from the contents of Odi’s carrier bag.
‘Hello, Odi. Good evening, Broon.’
They turn slowly, as though their reactions have been dulled by the cold. She steps closer, wanting to ask them how they can spare food to feed animals, who are far from starving, but knows it will seem impertinent. She holds up a canvas shopping bag that she filled after persuading Pete to leave the house before her.
‘I brought you some food. I hope you don’t mind, but I cooked and I made too much for myself. It’s lamb stew and home-made bread. It’s still warm. I put it in a flask.’
Neither of them speaks.
‘Odi, I really need to talk to you. Just for a few minutes. Would that be all right?’
‘What about?’ It is Broon who answers, placing himself fractionally in front of his partner.
‘I want to suggest something. Odi, I know you say you remember very little about the person you saw going into the cave that night.’
Odi shuffles closer to Broon. ‘I don’t. It was too dark. I’m not even sure now that I saw anyone.’
Maggie is careful to keep her distance. ‘I understand that. But if you really want to help Hamish, then I know you’ll do your best to remember anything that could be useful to his case.’
She will have to take the absence of denial as all the encouragement she is going to get.
‘What I want to suggest, Odi, is that you and I, and Broon too if that will make you feel more comfortable, go to see a hypnotist. We’ll find a good one, someone highly recommended.’
‘Hypnotist?’ Odi says the word experimentally, stretching out the syllables, as though trying how the sound of it feels and tastes in her mouth.
‘Yes. They can be very good at helping people find lost memories. What she would do is put you in a sort of trance. You wouldn’t be asleep, exactly, just a bit detached from what’s going on, and she’d ask you questions about that night. It’s just possible that, in a state of trance, you would remember more than you’ve told us already.’
‘I don’t want you messing with my lady’s mind.’
‘Nobody wants to do that, Broon, of course not. Think of it this way. In everybody’s head, there are stacks of memories, most of them filed away so carefully that we can’t bring them to mind without some help. But they’re still there. Odi, you could be the only person who saw the real killer, who has a chance of telling us who he is.’
Odi seems to shrink further away from her. ‘I’ve told you everything already and I’m not seeing any hypnotist.’
‘Odi, I—’
‘No! Tell her, Broon. Tell her I won’t. I don’t know anything.’
Broon seems to swell, facing off against Maggie. ‘We’re leaving, Odi and me. First thing in the morning. We’ve said our goodbyes and we’re off.’
‘Where? Broon, this is really important, you can’t just leave.’
‘We haven’t told anyone where we’re going and we don’t intend to. We’ve got nothing more to say.’
‘She’s frightened, Pete. She knows more than she’s saying but I have no idea how to get it out of her. She completely freaked when I mentioned hypnosis.’
‘I don’t blame her.’
‘Oh, don’t be so ignorant. How can you live so close to Glastonbury and have such a closed mind?’