The shooting stand was at the head of the valley. On a morning like this - cold and crisp - it commanded a view over the fields and along the river, all the way to the outskirts of the town almost three miles away.

Mark Bridges narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the taste of autumn air. "Pull!" he shouted. His partner, Carl, nodded and yanked on the lanyard in his hand, setting the clay trap in motion. A pair of arms hurled two whirring clay disks into the air and across Mark's field of vision. Mark tracked them with his gun, then - Boom! Boom! The pellets hit the clay pigeons, causing them to burst into fragments.

"Two good hits," Carl said to his friend. He picked up his shotgun and took up his position on the stand. "My turn."

Mark broke open his gun and extracted the two spent cartridges from it, before taking up his place at the trap. "What do you want?"

"Are there any double-zeds left? I fancy a challenge."

"I'll take a look." Mark fumbled through a stack of boxes that had been placed by a shelter, before extracting a pair of propellor-shaped objects. He slotted them into the mechanism of the trap. "Got ... ." His voice faltered as he stared at the black muzzles of Carl's shotgun. "You shouldn't do that. It's not safe."

"Nor is screwing my wife." Carl's voice was calm and steady.

Mark raised his hands and started to back away. He stopped when he heard Carl pull back the twin hammers on his weapon. "I haven't," he began.

"Don't lie to me," Carl said. "She told me last night. It broke my heart, you know." His voice trembled, then he swallowed to recover his composure and glared at Mark. "Twenty years we were together. Do you know what it feels like?"

Mark took another step back. "Look ... ." A thought hit him. "Were together? Oh God! You haven't hurt Anne? Have you?"

Carl raised his gun and took careful aim. "You'll never know."

Mark closed his eyes and pulled hard on the trap's lanyard. The two wooden arms sprung out, catching Carl in the stomach and knocking him off his feet. The shotgun flew into the air and tumbled into the river below.