“I found two in an outhouse. I did this one up” – he hesitated – “especially. It’s a fine class of a lamp.”

He lit a cigarette, and swished the match to and fro unnecessarily before hurling it into the grate.

“You are a dab hand,” said Maisie. “It’s the very thing. Men have their place in the scheme of things, too.”

Jack studied the lamp, then returned his gaze to the fire.

“It’s nothing,” he said, crossing his legs. An air of uneasiness fell, as if they were finding themselves suddenly complete strangers to each other. The glib foreplay of language flittered out. No one knew what to say. The lamp filled the room with shadows. “Will you have tea?” asked Catherine. But Jack declined. “It’s a courting light, that,” he said. Just then, Sara came into the kitchen with her coat over her head. She shook the coat into the porch, paused, and looked round.

“What’s this?” she said.

“Jack brought it for us,” said Catherine. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Jack? Jack is it, now?” she said.

“I’m going out,” said Sara.

“Please yourself,” Catherine answered.

“Look, I’m going out for a while, that’s all.”

“How?”

“Walking.”

“Walking where?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I can’t stop you.”

“Just try.”

Sara buttoned up her cardigan. She looked into the mirror on the windowsill, and widened her eyes as she drew her cheeks down with her fingertips. Then she stood by the door, reluctant to leave.

“I find you depressing,” Sara said with a tone of bizarre unexpected intimacy.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back early,” she pleaded, but Catherine continued brooding by the fire.

“Are you going to meet Jack?” she asked, and her upper lip shook.

“It’s not your concern who I’m meeting.”

“No, it’s not.”

“If you won’t speak civilly to me, then I’m going,” Sara said.

Catherine gave her a look of crazy, undefined envy.

“I don’t want rancour in the house,” Catherine, white-faced, replied.

Catherine talked to herself under her breath. Her face grew ugly when Sara was gone. She cried dispassionately. Waited for the sound of the car starting. She peered out of the curtains but the car remained unlit and untouched. Then, having reached a decision, she stood at the bottom of the stairs and listened. But she could not hear a sound except the constant shifting of the wind, and a hammering from the sea like tent-pegs being banged into the earth. She drew on a coat, pulled the door quietly behind her, and went to the gate.

She looked into the passenger windows of the car.