“Really?" His eyes widened, theatrically stunned. "What — all worthy causes? Dropping aid from planes in Ethiopia whilst singing a merry song? Handing out medical supplies in Aleppo and dancing the hornpipe?"

I managed not to smile. "No, OK. Not all. You surprised me, that's all. I was miles away."

"Well, only one." He jerked his head back to the house. Then he looked at me. "You were up there."

I followed to where he was suggesting, disconcerted. "Fair enough."

"With your ex-husband?"

I frowned. "How d’you know he's my ex-husband?"

"Oh, Babs is full of chat. I had a drink with her. She seems to have slightly adopted me, didn't you know?" He grinned. Then he shrugged noncommittally. "He's a nice man."

I nodded slowly. "Of course. You had a meeting with him."

"Nice, but malleable. The intention is there, but the decision-making isn't."

"Are we talking about beach pollution again?"

“So wearying."

“There are other things?"

He regarded me carefully a moment. Then he moved to the rock I'd been sitting on. Perched on it. Patted the space beside him. I hesitated, then went and sat down.

“There are, admittedly, other things. But right now it's pretty pertinent. Particularly here. Particularly with that family being so involved."

"It's not Hugo's fault," I told him defensively. "His hands are tied."

"Of course it's his fault. He's the CEO. His father's hands were never tied, I've checked."

"Roger's a different person."

"You mean he's his own person."

“That's a cretinous expression. Everyone's their own person. It's just whether or not you like what you see." I was horribly aware, though, that this man was spookily echoing thoughts I'd had myself, only moments earlier. "And anyway, what d’you mean, you've checked? What are you, the police?"

"When Roger was in charge there were plenty of contentious decisions. Too much sewage being pumped into the wrong places, or ignored at sea. Not enough filtration — the waste water treatment in Plymouth is wholly responsible for Bio-Beads, incidentally, those minute things we'd carefully gathered into piles and which you galloped gaily through the other day. Even Roger would admit that. Although he'd also say they were unaware of the dangers back then, and he's right. Mistakes were made through general ignorance. But everyone is so informed these days, there's no excuse. But it's not just that. Crucially, in Roger's day there were far fewer anomalies."

"What d’you mean?"

"I don't know, exactly." He narrowed his eyes and gazed out to sea. "I'm not sure yet. But something here doesn't quite stack up." He was quiet for a while. After a bit, he sighed. "I don't know. Perhaps I just want someone to blame for something I care deeply about."

I grinned. "Ah, at last. A glimmer of self-knowledge."

He didn't smile though. Looked depressed, even, and I rather regretted my barb. "You can't help having a passion," I offered in recompense. "Hate that word, by the way. It's so overused and devalued."