More or less the moment Ryan says he needs to speak with her in person, Mara sets things into motion, arranging with her parents to have him stay for a weekend near Christmas, and sending him endless information on how to get to her remote, armpit-of-North-Wales house.
Some three weeks after she sends him the photos (which are the most-accessed files on Ryan’s laptop, to his shame) he arrives, through seemingly endless clouds of mist and light rain, to a farmhouse on a hillside—screw it, mountainside—in North Wales, with no lights of civilisation anywhere on the lonely, darkening horizon.
It is a warm outpost in a strange desert.
She gets the idea, pretty fast, that this is not a social visit by any means, and shoos away her younger sisters (all four of them) before barricading the two of them in an attic room that seems to be a cross between a private study and a cosy den.