Back Harbour Street Save as PDF
Chapters (47)
  1. Contents
  2. Chapter One
  3. Chapter Two
  4. Chapter Three
  5. Chapter Four
  6. Chapter Five
  7. Chapter Six
  8. Chapter Seven
  9. Chapter Eight
  10. Chapter Nine
  11. Chapter Ten
  12. Chapter Eleven
  13. Chapter Twelve
  14. Chapter Thirteen
  15. Chapter Fourteen
  16. Chapter Fifteen
  17. Chapter Sixteen
  18. Chapter Seventeen
  19. Chapter Eighteen
  20. Chapter Nineteen
  21. Chapter Twenty
  22. Chapter Twenty-One
  23. Chapter Twenty-Two
  24. Chapter Twenty-Three
  25. Chapter Twenty-Four
  26. Chapter Twenty-Five
  27. Chapter Twenty-Six
  28. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  30. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  31. Chapter Thirty
  32. Chapter Thirty-One
  33. Chapter Thirty-Two
  34. Chapter Thirty-Three
  35. Chapter Thirty-Four
  36. Chapter Thirty-Five
  37. Chapter Thirty-Six
  38. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  39. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  40. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  41. Chapter Forty
  42. Chapter Forty-One
  43. Chapter Forty-Two
  44. Chapter Forty-Three
  45. Chapter Forty-Four
  46. Chapter Forty-Five
  47. About the Author

‘All the years that I’ve been staying at Harbour Street I only once had a real conversation with Margaret. She had a flat upstairs and rarely came into the visitors’ areas except for work. But one evening we came into the house together. She’d crossed the road from the church, I think, and I was chilled after a day on the water. I invited her to join me for a drink, and we sat together in that dark, gloomy lounge.’ He paused. ‘I probably talked about my work, my family. I’ve been married for forty years and have grandchildren of whom I’m ridiculously proud. Happy people can sound very smug, and I thought suddenly that she wasn’t happy at all. That the quiet efficiency was a show, and underneath there was a terrible desperation. I asked her about her husband. Did she ever see him? “Oh no,” she said. “He’s long gone.” Then she said something very odd. “Secrets are all I have left.” I didn’t ask her what she meant. I could see that she wouldn’t tell me.’

Holly made detailed notes. Some of it didn’t mean much to her, but Vera had been in the guest house and it would all mean more to her. She turned back to the professor. ‘You spent yesterday with Malcolm Kerr?’

‘Yes. He took me out to Coquet Island. My research is into water temperature and how small changes can have an impact on microorganisms and therefore affect things further up the food chain. We collected samples. It’s meticulous work – some might say tedious. It took until the middle of the afternoon.’

‘You don’t have a student to do the fieldwork for you?’ Holly had once gone out with someone doing a PhD, who was always complaining about doing the donkey work for his supervisor.

Craggs gave a little laugh. ‘I’m what you’d call a control freak. I like to be in charge of my own data.’ He continued to twist the ring on his finger. ‘Besides, I enjoy being on the water. That was what drew me to the subject in the first place. A passion for ecology and for open spaces. I’m due to retire next year. I’m not quite sure what I’ll do with myself. Write a book, perhaps, like all retired academics.’

‘You must know Malcolm Kerr well then?’