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There was nowhere to go except into the water, which the evening shadows had turned black and uninviting. She could only press herself against the aqueduct wall, with the looming drop behind her, as the man approached.

‘Don’t hurt me!’ she cried out, wishing she had some kind of defensive weapon. All she had was her smartphone, which she clutched in her hand like a rather ineffective miniature club.

At the sound of her voice, however, the man slowed and came to a stop.

In the glimmer of the evening sun, she recognised Edward Dawkins, now stripped of his checked shirt and wearing a running vest that showed off his muscular arms. He also wore a headband, which he quickly pulled off, used to mop his brow, and then slipped into a pocket of his running shorts.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t see you there. You don’t get many people up here at this time of the evening. Not at this time of year, at any rate. You do know that the path down isn’t lit at night, don’t you?’

Kelly grimaced. ‘I do now.’

‘I would’ve thought you’d have gone back to Brentwell by now anyway,’ Edward said, leaning on the aqueduct wall and stretching out his legs. ‘Haven’t you got enough material for your newspaper’s gossip column already?’

Kelly tensed. Entertainment features are not gossip, she thought. They’re light-hearted fun for people who don’t take life quite so seriously. Out loud, she said, ‘I’m planning to stay until the weekend.’

‘Well, that’s good news,’ Edward said, ‘because I’m sure you’ll find plenty of entertainment here in Briar Speckles.’

‘I’m just trying to do my job,’ Kelly said.

‘I understand,’ Edward replied. ‘But like I said to you earlier, I don’t recommend staying around here for the parade. Some of the locals tend to get a little overexcited.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Look, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘If you’re talking about people trying to scare me, then I’ll let you know that I’m not easily scared,’ Kelly said, standing up straight. ‘I’ve studied the paranormal, and I’ll have you know that there are very few recorded incidents that can’t be explained scientifically. The vast majority of paranormal claims are merely people wanting to believe something is true. They overlook evidence. They dismiss practical answers. And they do whatever they can to latch onto every possible wild explanation.’

As the setting sun caught the amused smirk on Edward’s face, she continued, ‘I appreciate that people want to believe in ghosts and demons and bottomless wells and haunted steps and curses and all manner of other things, but the reality is there isn’t any genuine scientific evidence to support any of it.’

‘I wasn’t talking about the ghosts,’ Edward said. ‘I was talking about the people.’

‘So what you’re saying is that there are some rather strange people around here?’

For the first time, Edward seemed to relax slightly.

‘You have no idea,’ he said. ‘If it wasn’t for my dad running the Carnival of Horrors, I probably would’ve left and never come back.’

‘I heard that you’re an archaeologist,’ Kelly said.

Edward tilted his head. With the sun’s lingering orange glow catching the edge of his face, he looked like the hero in a 1950s war drama.

‘Have you been researching me?’ he asked. ‘What else do you know?’

‘Well, I know your name,’ Kelly said. ‘Something that you haven’t offered me. I know that your name is Edward Dawkins.’

‘I do apologise for not introducing myself,’ Edward said. ‘And who might you be?’

Kelly felt herself blush, having not thought to introduce herself either.

‘My name’s Kelly Tunwick,’ she said. ‘I work for The Brentwell Daily.’

‘Well, how about we start from the beginning,’ Edward said. ‘It’s very nice to meet you, Kelly.’ He reached out and took her hand with one of his own after wiping it free of sweat. She felt the strength there and became flustered all over again, aware that Rosemary Clover’s warnings might actually be true.

‘If you do insist on sticking around,’ Edward said, ‘I might be able to find time to help you out a little bit. That is, if there’s any space in your schedule.’

Was he coming on to her?

Kelly realised that she was still holding his hand and that standing on an ancient aqueduct with a brightly lit village on one side and a sunset on the other was about as romantic a location as it was possible to find in this part of Devon.