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‘Any idiot could work it out,’ said Andrew, opening the door. ‘Or any idiot bar one.’

They re-entered the sitting room where Rose was running her fingers over the cello, imagining her piece before working on it. She’d found the photograph David had taken of her with it, and propped it on the mantlepiece. It helped. Just a little..

‘Simon’s making lunch,’ said Andrew. ‘How about you take me for a walk?’

Outside, the sky was darker again, a sullen grey, the air was damp and Rose could feel her hair frizzing. It was cold. Or she was cold.

She and Andrew walked beyond the garden up the slope to the woods. A crow followed for a while, like a priest with his hands behind his back, pacing along deep in thought. After a while, it took flight and flew up into the lone tree to caw from within the leaves.

Hugging her arms around her, feeling the moist air penetrate her top, Rose ran the questions over in her mind.

Do I want to know? She looked towards the trees then stopping, turned and looked down on the bungalows.

What have Simon and I done? Why am I buried here, living a half-life myself with my doomed brother? She breathed deep.

‘What do you think?’ she asked.

‘I think you might be right.’ said Andrew. He stood close to her and put his arm round her frigid shoulder. After a moment, she turned and buried her head in his shoulder, her arms still hugging herself but his hugging her.

‘He’s ageing in wolf years, isn’t he?’ she said.

‘Maybe faster,’ Andrew paused and kissed the top of her head. ‘I imagine that’s why there are so few werewolves, why they are so desperate to pass the virus on. An adult wolf in the wild is only eight years old or so. Simon is the equivalent of six years old I guess. Maybe seven.’

‘So if you don’t find a cure, if nothing else happens, he will die within two years or so. He’ll rapidly decline. Is that what you think?’

‘Perhaps. It’s hardly an exact science. As Simon says, there are a few of us working on a cure for the virus, but it’s all shared secretly.’ Andrew stepped back and looked into her face. ‘I can’t promise anything Rose, I’m just trying to keep him safe despite himself.’

‘I wish you were my brother too, Andrew. ’

‘I am, Rose, or at least, I’m as close as dammit. Hang on in there. Have you got anyone to talk to?’

Rose hooked her arm through his and they walked back to the bungalow. Her hair must be a frizzy mess by now.

‘Most of my friends drifted off when David died,’ she said. ‘Or maybe I pushed them away. I don’t know. Right now, I think the only one I have is Sky. And she’s a wolf. Otherwise, all I’ve got is the cello.’

‘Well, that’s… a shame. Maybe you’ll find someone here. It’s a small place - they can be less cold than cities. Give it time Rose, and I’m glad about the cello. I guess it’s an outlet.’

‘Mmm,’ she said. ‘Why did you think it was a good idea moving all the way out here?’

‘Seemed like you’d be out of the public eye. Simon would get some privacy and you’d get some peace.’

‘Spoken like a true theorist. If we’d stayed in the city, Simon could have had episodes every five minutes and no one would have noticed. Here, they will work out the full-moon co-incidence in no time at all, if they haven’t already. It’s just so isolated.’

‘You haven’t committed to the move, that’s the trouble. You should have sold up and bought somewhere bigger. Not just because of Simon but for your own sake. That house is a mausoleum to your parents. Sooner or later you’ll have to let go.’

‘Maybe, but not yet. Renting it out means we have options later. I’m just not sure about Kirkglen though.’

‘It’s beautiful. Simon said you came on family hiking holidays to somewhere like this.’

‘Like it, yes.’

Andrew looked back at the forest. ‘About Sky,’ he started. ‘Is it for real?’

‘She’s real, wherever she is, unless I’m going mad.

Whether the shapeshifter thing is real, I can’t say.

Hard to know why Simon would make it up, unless his mind is damaged more than we’d thought.

He never mentioned her once when he came home, but he was distraught about something. I couldn’t put my finger on it.’

‘When he was recovering, did any of the girlfriends come and visit?’

‘One or two. The nicer ones. He saw them for a bit, but it was half-hearted. I should have guessed he’d finally realised there was more to love than physical attraction and a good photograph.’

‘You had your own things to worry about, Rose.’ said Andrew. ‘I mean it. You need to talk to someone about David. You can always count on me as a brother, I’ve told you. I love you very much. In fact, if you were my type…’

Rose grinned and hugged into him. ‘But I’m not even the right gender.’

As they approached the bungalow, arm in arm, Rose saw Rob coming out of his place and looking up the hill.

He paused, watching them. She thought of the grave and wondered how she could ever ask him about it.

She raised her arm. He nodded. As they walked towards the bungalow, he disappeared out of their line of sight.