Monday 6 May 1985. Joy had never seen the Hartley Valley like this before. There was something soothing about steering a narrow boat slowly down the Hartleydale Narrow Canal. Even though she had lived all her life in Holme Hill, Joy was unaware of any of this: the old, ruinated factory buildings, trees growing out of chimneys; the wildlife going about its daily business, oblivious to human activity except where the possibility of food was concerned.

Joy breathed in deeply. It was so good to be alive! Everything was so perfect. All because of Rod. Her Rod. He had been the first, and would be the only one, for ever and always. The last two months had been the best ever. And here the two of them were, moored up just outside Hartley. Riddles mill loomed large. She tried not to think about work, th...

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