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“‘Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap’ by AC/DC. It’s great, isn’t it?” He stares at me and I shrug. “It’s just some music to get us in the mood for a bit of grave digging.”

I see the moment he decides to let it go. “Marriage is very strange,” he remarks, digging in the cupboard for a couple of travel mugs and then proceeding to make tea.

“Why?”

“You put a ring on a bloke’s finger and all of a sudden you’re sharing a grave-robbing song together.”

“It’s a theme tune, Levi,” I say in a dramatic tone. “Do please keep up. All the best double acts have them. Wallace and Gromit, Laurel and Hardy⁠—”

“Burke and Hare?” he offers, eyes twinkling. When I laugh, he shakes his head. “You are actually enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Is that wrong? I’m asking for a friend.”

“And what happens if we’re caught?”

“Well, I’ll be fine, but you might find that your reputation with the locals works against you.”

“What reputation?” he says indignantly. He’s so deliciously and adorably easy to wind up.

“It wasn’t me who was led out of the hall in shame,” I say in a pious tone of voice. “I was just sitting there minding my own business and sampling the local produce.” I sigh. “I’m worried that your criminal inclinations will destroy us in the end. Oh well, never mind. I’ll bake you a cake with a file in it for when I visit you in prison for our conjugal visits.”

“You’d better make it a cyanide capsule. It might help me to deal with your cooking better.”

I laugh and stand up, pulling him towards me. He comes willingly, his usual easy smile on his face, and I kiss him gently but extremely thoroughly. When he pulls back, his gaze has gone satisfactorily bleary, and I pat his cheek affectionately.

“Shall we go back to bed?” he whispers. “And forget this whole thing?”

I shake my head. “You are actually working to spoil my special day, Levi. Shame on you. What sort of husband are you?”

“It’s grave robbing. Not Alton Towers.”

“Will and I hitched there once. I don’t think there’s much difference in the experience, overall.”

He puts the cups in his satchel and then shrugs into his coat. “Come on then. Let’s get this over and done with.”

I rub my hands together. “Epic.”

Half an hour later, my good mood has vanished.

“Could we not have taken the road?” I grumble as I pick myself up from where I just slipped in some mud.

Levi offers me a hand, a wry look on his face. “We’re not in charge of this operation.”

“Why are you dallying?” Branok asks as he drifts back to us. He’s so solid I would take him for human if I didn’t know better. He was waiting for us when we came out of the cottage and had insisted on leading the way.

“I don’t even know what that means,” I snap. “Is it something to do with slipping on some mud on this godforsaken coastal path, and nearly falling to my death in the ocean?”

I’m trying hard to ignore how narrow this path is and how close we are to the edge where sixty feet below are vicious-looking rocks and black waves.

He ignores me, something he obviously finds easy to do. “Make haste. It is nearly midnight.” He shakes his head. “A bad time to investigate a graveyard.”

Levi perks up. “So, the witching hour isn’t a myth?”

“I told you that years ago,” I say indignantly.

He offers me an apologetic look. “Yes, but he’s the expert. I’m asking the organ grinder, not the monkey.”

“Levi,” I say in a wounded voice. “You too?”