“No, thanks,” said Alfred. “I’ve got everything I need.”

What you need is somewhere to live! Annie thought, but she said: “Okay, then. Well, good night.”

This time Alfred really smiled; the lines in his face deepened so that it looked like his face was swallowing itself. His eyes twinkled, and Annie couldn’t help but smile back.

“Good night,” said Alfred. “And thank you.”

Back upstairs, the warmth of the little flat washed over her, and Annie felt a pang of sorrow for the things that made Alfred feel he couldn’t cope with being an “inny.” She made herself a cup of chamomile tea, plucked Mari’s guide to Saltwater Nook from the bookcase, and settled back into bed.

Annie opened the handwritten book and flipped through the pages. At the beginning of the section marked Autumn was a side note, which read:

Alfred.

Around this time of year, Alfred will occasionally let himself in of an evening when the weather is particularly squally. He is homeless. Something happened a long time ago that caused him to feel like he didn’t belong in one. He is a good man, I am sure, and a man of nature, too. He is as in harmony with the world as the birds are the air.

Alfred is an all-weather friend with a practical hand you’ll find yourself mighty grateful for. He has a key to the padlock on the furthest set of shutters so he can sleep in the old tearoom. It’s dry, if a little drafty. I don’t mind saying I feel better about thunderstorms when Alfred’s downstairs. When winter sets in proper, he’ll be on his way, and you won’t see him again till the hyacinth bloom. He’s no bother and he’ll thank you to do nothing for him. He’s a proud man and one of the best I’ve known.

Annie placed the book on her bedside table and determined to pay it some proper attention, lest she find herself in store for more surprises.

Chapter 25

When Annie left Saltwater Nook the next morning in search of a copy of The Woman in White, the air was so bitingly fresh it took her breath away. She had woken up early and taken a mug of tea downstairs for Alfred, but the tearoom was empty; he must have left before sunrise.

Annie shivered until she was a third of the way up the hill, when the chill turned to sweat. She repeated It will get easier in her mind like a mantra, over the sound of her ragged breathing and the screaming ache in her thighs. It was good to have goals.

The library stood just off the main street and backed onto a park, with woods beyond. She decided to call Sally quickly while she waited for her cheeks to fade from beetroot purple to radish pink.