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“You don’t just go for casual walks in the woods here!” Davey continued, clearly agitated by Roger’s calm demeanour. “It’s not safe! You know it’s not safe! You were clearly concerned by the wolves when Steph and I came around the other night, so it is not like you’re blind to the danger!”

“Yes,” Roger grimaced, “I must admit I don’t trust the wolves. There are too many of them and they are rather incorrigible.”

“And what about the other animals?” Davey continued.

“I treat them with a bit of respect and I seem to do OK,” Roger replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “Besides, the cave lion had been detained as far as I was aware, so I was even safer. I would ordinarily take a few more precautions…”

“Precautions like what?” Martina asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Ah, you see, Davey! This is why I kept my forest jaunts to myself!”

“Forest jaunts?” Davey spat.

“What precautions?”

“Well, I usually make sure I carry a deterrent with me when I walk,” Roger replied.

“Like?”

Roger sighed and walked over to a free-standing wardrobe by the front door that Steph assumed was used for coats and shoes. He opened it, reached inside and came out brandishing his deterrent.

“It is just a little machete,” Roger said.

“That thing is more than a machete,” Davey said, puffing out his cheeks. “It’s basically a Scottish claymore!”

“Well, yes, it is a little larger than a machete, but then so are some of the animals here.”

Before Martina could voice her objections, Steph said, “But would that really put off some of the larger animals? I mean, you might get a swipe or two in, but it is a lot tougher to kill something than one would imagine.”

“Ah yes well, I did think about that,” Roger said, suddenly smiling. “Really the machete is a last resort. My first line of attack is a concoction of mine. I came up with my own bear mace. I made it from a few everyday sources; incredibly easy to make, very natural ingredients. And then, just to be sure, I also lace the machete in it when I go out.”

Roger began to chuckle to himself as he looked past everyone to the opposite wall. “The one time I did have to use it, it certainly gave the lion something to think about.”

“What?” Martina snapped.

“Oh, calm down,” Roger said. “It was just a bit of a bloody scratch on the arm to go with some of his other scars. Honestly, you wouldn’t know I’d done anything. He did, obviously. The mace saw to that. The surprise on his face was something else. Not that I think it would work again – surprise is a powerful weapon, but it is hard to garner the same response using the same method.”

Ignoring an indignant-looking Martina and a speechless Davey, Steph asked, “What was in the mace, exactly?”

“Oh, like I said. Basic things one might find in a kitchen or somewhere. Chilli sauce from those really hot chillies you see on television. Ghost chillies, I think they are called… and a bit of watered-down sulphuric acid.”

“Sulphuric acid!” Martina squealed, standing up. “You have been attacking my work with sulphuric acid? You said it was natural ingredients!”

“Watered down,” Roger reminded her holding his hands up. “And remember, it was him who attacked me! Hasn’t done it since though. Besides, sulphuric acid is natural. Read a book!”

Lost for words, Martina sat down again. Davey also looked like he still needed time to digest what he’d heard. It was not a particularly life-changing revelation that had any real consequences, it was more that it broke a preconceived notion of who Roger was.

“Anyway, do you want me to finish my story or not?” Roger asked.

“Yes, go on,” Steph said, suppressing a smile at the twinkle in Roger’s eye.

“Right, well, as I said, I saw Michael was back, left the house and headed out – bear mace in my pocket but no walking machete. Nobody seemed to notice me leave as Thomas was busy running his mouth again.” Calum jerked his head in Roger’s direction and narrowed his eyes. Roger ignored him. “I hadn’t gone more than fifty yards when I heard a commotion. I turned and saw the lion had become a little more animated than was ideal. You know, no longer lying down. So I scarpered and came back here. And that, I suppose, is that.”

Martina continued to scowl at Roger who appeared to be enjoying the attention from her. Davey sat quietly staring at his empty mug and muttering to himself about machetes and lions.

Steph looked down at her own mug to find that she had drained hers as well. It was interesting filling in the blanks ofwhat happened. But did it help? Did it help direct any future plans? Probably not, or so Steph thought. Then again, with a little more reflection, maybe there was a nugget buried there somewhere. Either way, what to do now?

THIRTY-SIX