Following a serious incident in a nightclub, Polly runs away from London to the Highlands, where a mother is house-sitting for a friend. She thinks she will be safe. She does not expect the ghosts of Celtic Mythology to reach out and seize her. But that is what happens - and she is not safe. Will any of the people around her be able to save her? And will it be those damaged by the last haunting - or those caught up in the present one?
There was no-one for miles. We'd passed a small stone building surrounded by barbed wire and pylons, and some sort of deserted army lodge, but civilisation felt very far away.
Once in the middle of the loch, Jim slotted the oars into the rusted locks and got to work. There were, thankfully, no rancid fish heads or tubs of pearly maggots, just a long crude-looking rod, the end of which he lodged against his seat.
'So, now we just wait?'
He nodded, a smile hanging on one side of his mouth.