‘It’s breaking now, though,’ she says and I turn to find her watching me. ‘There are fractures,’ she goes on. ‘Though some of them are sticking closely together. But that was my story,’ she says, pausing to take a deep breath, ‘and I’m sure it’s not as interesting as yours. What made you up and leave that summer, Stella?’

I look down to where my hands are balled in my lap, wrenching them apart and pulling my coat tighter against me. I wonder if Freya really believes this is a simple question for me to answer or if her journalistic radar can tell it’s anything but. ‘My dad got another job, we needed the money.’ I regurgitate the excuse like I believe it myself.

I wait as she nods, musing over my answer. She doesn’t ask more, though I’m certain this hasn’t satisfied her but rather she’s just biding her time. ‘So, you saw your old house on the news,’ she states. ‘That must have been a shock.’

‘It was,’ I agree.

‘And that was why you came back? You thought that by being here you might get more answers?’

‘Maybe,’ I admit.

‘You won’t get any more here than you will watching the news. Nothing will be released until they’re ready.’

‘You think the police already know more?’ I ask.

She dodges the question as she says, ‘In fact, you won’t get any answers that easily on Evergreen. Sometimes you only leave with more questions. Do you want to know what I think?’ she asks and I nod because it’s easier than answering her questions. ‘I think more than one person living on this island knows exactly who the body is, only none of them are saying.’

‘Who are you talking about?’ I ask, staring back at her, wishing I could flatten down the corners of her mouth which look like they’re constantly amused by me.

‘I don’t know for certain but I’m going to make sure I find out. Too many of them are like closed books, but, with pressure, one of them will snap open.’

I shift uncomfortably on the bench and turn back to the sea. Despite the fact I know someone must have buried the body, it’s still unsettling that it could be someone I know.

‘You had an older brother and sister,’ she recalls. ‘They didn’t want to come back with you?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘Bonnie has a family to look after.’ I don’t add that I still haven’t told her I’m here. I know I should call her to explain.