JOSEPH RETURNED AS DAY broke. He had hitched a ride with a lorry driver headed south. Alighted by the main road and walked into the village before first light. The landlady had given him a key and although he could have easily let himself in, he decided to walk to the cottage whilst it was still early. There were more signs of spring this morning as he kicked up golden moths walking through the long dunes. Each one fluttering then settling again as he made his way along the path. He sat outside on the bench and smoked, trying not to look too far out to sea. He flicked the ash as Nefyn came to sit beside him, carrying two cups of coffee. Joseph cleared his throat, moved his weight to the edge of the bench.

‘I’ve been wanting to ask you something,’ he said, his forehead furrowed. ‘Do you remember that day on the headland?’ He asked the question simply. He had been thinking a lot about it recently. How he and Nefyn had made their way to the beach alone, and how he had stumbled, slipped accidentally off the headland into the sea.

Nefyn watched him. ‘Yes.’

He had panicked. He couldn’t find a foothold and the waves were butting him up against the wall of the cliff. He had started swallowing water. Screaming. And she had stood there, looking down at him.

‘Why didn’t you shout? Why didn’t you help me?’

He had had nightmares about it for years. The look on her face. Her strength in the water, his weakness. The sea saturating his clothes, his hair, making him heavy. His arms numb and weakening. And he had held that memory close to his heart. The way she had looked at him, impassive, immobile, as if she were waiting for something. And then their father had come running, jumped in. An arm under his chin. The feeling of being thrown on to hard ground. The admonishments for being so stupid. Their mother had washed him, put him to bed, whilst Nefyn watched silently.

‘Why didn’t you help me, Nefyn?’ He couldn’t look at her even now.

‘Because I knew you could swim,’ she said.

‘No, I couldn’t.’

‘Yes, you could. You were just scared to.’

Joseph took this in.

‘If you had been scared enough, you would have swum, known that you could do it. Grown into yourself.’

Joseph flicked his cigarette.

‘And I knew that if I saved you, you’d hate me for it. Every day.’ The gulls were calling now, each one looking for today’s offerings on the tideline. ‘The next time, when you were jumping into the sea at Porth y Wrach, with your friends—’

‘I was fine.’

Nefyn shook her head.