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Sitting on the top stone step, Lottie waited for her pulse to stop racing. Definitely should have brought Boyd along. He knew about her phobia. One she had been unsuccessful in overcoming. She could stare down a maniac with a lump hammer in his hand, stand her ground before a knife-wielding thug, but the scuttling of mice or their larger cousins always caused her to run.

Maybe she should have a quick look around upstairs to ease her fears. There the windows allowed more light in, so she’d no longer be dependent on a narrow torch beam.

Moving out of the basement, she closed over the door. That was when she smelled something rancid and heard harsh laboured breathing behind her. She turned, ready to accost whoever had followed her.

‘Hey, lady, not so fast. I’m not here to hurt you.’

‘Jesus, you scared me. You shouldn’t creep up on people.’

The man held up his two empty hands. Pleading? Or demonstrating to her that he held no weapon? He licked his lips through his white scruffy beard, which did little to help her determine his age.

‘What are you doing here?’ His voice was as gravelly as his skin.

‘Snooping.’

‘I can see that.’

‘And can I ask whatyouare doing here?’

‘Keeping an eye out for snoopers.’ There was no trace of mirth in his tone. She reckoned he was deadly serious.

‘Do you have some claim on the convent?’ She walked a little away from him. He smelled bad. Unwashed.

‘Used to be the gardener here, back in the day.’ He grinned, one tooth and blackness.

‘Oh, so you were here when the convent operated as a laundry?’ She retraced her steps towards him, now interested in this strange man.

‘Aye. The nuns were good to me. Not so good to others. None of my business. And I don’t like people ferreting around in places they have no right to.’

‘I just wanted a look. It’s part of our country’s history.’

‘That’s what the other one said.’

‘What other one?’

‘No one pays a blind bit of heed to the convent for donkey’s years, and then two of you appear out of nowhere within a week of each other. Are you working with her?’

‘With who?’

‘That’s a no, then.’ He lit up an unfiltered cigarette, and the distinctive waft of cannabis hit her in the face. ‘You should be on your way, lady.’

‘Okay, I’m leaving, but I’m interested in who else was here recently.’

‘None of your business if she has nothing to do with you.’

Should she play the detective card? Scare the shit out of him? No, it would take a lot more than the threat of the guards to scare this man.

‘I’m Lottie.’ She braved holding out her hand, half hoping he wouldn’t accept it. ‘Who are you?’

He paused as if debating making physical contact. He moved his smoke from his right hand to his left and eventually took her outstretched hand. His was cold and hard. Like the eyes she found staring back at her.

‘Mickey Fox,’ he said. ‘Pleasure, I’m not sure. Why are you here?’

‘I told you. I was just snooping. What about you?’

‘Worked here for forty years and the nuns pay me a retainer to keep an eye on the place.’