“The one who screamed,” said Annie.

“That was me too,” said Alfred gruffly, still speaking from beneath the blanket. “You took me by surprise.”

“Come out from under there,” said Annie.

“Don’t throw anything else at me,” said Alfred.

Annie lowered the Kilner jar.

A dirty hand reached around and pulled the blanket down to reveal a scowling man in his sixties. His hair was too long to be tidy, and his black beard needed a trim, but the hook nose unmistakably belonged to the man she had seen stomping up the beach after she’d stumbled upon his hiding place in the cave.

“What are you doing in here?” asked Annie. She put the jar back on the shelf. “You frightened the life out of me!”

“I told you,” said Alfred. “I came in here to sleep. The weather’s bad, and the tide’s too high for me to stay in the cave. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“That’s okay, I think my heart rate is returning to normal,” she smiled. “Do you often sleep here?”

“Only when the weather’s bad like tonight,” said Alfred.

He was well spoken; a northern twang clung to the ends and beginnings of his words. Despite the fright he’d given her, Annie felt sorry for him; she wouldn’t want to be outside in this storm either.

“Mari knows,” said Alfred.

“She didn’t mention it to me.”

“It’s an unspoken agreement.”

“How did you get in?”

“Mari gave me a key to one of the shutters,” said Alfred. “And the window latch gives with a little jimmying.” He lifted one hand to reveal a silver key swinging between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ah, that explains it. For a moment, I thought I had a Houdini on my hands!”

“Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid.” Alfred began to shift onto his knees. “I’m going to get up,” he said. “Please don’t launch any weapons at me.”

Annie smiled and held her hands up. “I am unarmed.”

The rolling pin clattered onto the floorboards and rolled under a table as he stood. He leaned the umbrella up against a table leg and set about folding his blankets and stuffing them neatly into the shopping bag he’d been using as a pillow.

“What are you doing?” asked Annie.

“I’m leaving,” said Alfred.

“You can’t go out in this!” said Annie. “The weather’s terrible.”

As though to strengthen her point, a gust of wind hit the shutters like someone was outside battering them with a canoe.

“Just stay, please,” said Annie. “If it’s all right with Mari, it’s all right with me.”

Alfred smiled hesitantly. His leathery cheeks folded like a concertina into deep lines that traveled up past his eyes and along his weather-beaten forehead. His wasn’t a face that was used to smiling.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” said Annie. “Do you need anything?”