Oh yes, she said, I’d like that. Her answer came quickly. He could hear her brightness if he could not see it.

And his mother was passing the salad bowl around. Do you think it’s got too dark to finish the meal out here? We could go inside for pudding. Though it’s such a lovely night.

They agreed they would stay outside. A warm night such as this was rare. The moon had risen. Bats flecked the air above their heads. If no image, then a memory at least to fix. Talking across the table, darkness between them. Making the spaces that were there, the secrets and absences that their words crossed, almost tangible.

She went out with Richard next morning. It seemed to him that they were gone for a long time.

What took you so long?

It’s a big farm, she said when she came back. I didn’t know it was so big. I thought that we would walk but Richard drove everywhere in the Land Rover. He says farmers don’t walk their land, they always drive.

Well, yes, that’s Richard for you. Let’s go for a walk ourselves this afternoon. We’re not farmers so we can walk.

The weather got muggy after lunch, the sky overcast. It wasn’t a great time for a walk. Only the dog was eager to be out. He was getting attached to this new dog. Perhaps she was silly like people said spaniels were, but that might have been only her youth. She was pretty much trained but he took a lead with him because she didn’t know him so well. When finally they left the house they walked out with no clear direction, down the drive and onto the track and then around the edges of the fields. He meant to take a long walk out and beyond the farm and back through the village, perhaps have a drink in the pub before they got home; they were so late that it might be open by the time they got there. They would be able to sit outside on the bench with the dog at their feet. Yet the walk seemed dull. On such a flat day the land seemed flatter than ever, the distances longer. I suppose you came all through here this morning, he said, and she said yes, she had, though of course everything looked different when you were driving.

So you know what crops he’s growing.

I can tell the difference now between wheat and barley.

Barley’s more beautiful, I always think. He didn’t think that Richard would see a thing like that – or would he? Perhaps he would, perhaps Richard saw beauty where he did.

Richard says he wants it to rain.

Oh does he?

He says the fields could do with a little more rain before harvest.

It had become very muggy. A drop of rain fell cool on his face.