More laughter. Saul gulped away the first few inches of his new drink. The mirth settled, the conversation stalled. Luke’s dark gaze wandered towards the harbour beyond the window and Viola snatched herself out of sight, pressing against the open shutters – not fast enough. There was a low, muffled exchange within and a smattering of derisive grunts. Viola peeled off and cut a slant across the cobbles, making for the stocks.

‘Hey!’ Saul’s voice halted her.

He didn’t run to catch her up. He took his time.

‘Where’s that dog of yours?’ he said, coming to stand beside her, too close. There was a sway to his body.

‘At home,’ Viola said, not looking him in the eye.

Then, quieter, he asked: ‘And my radio?’

Viola chewed at her lip.

‘What radio?’ She grinned, trying to be playful, reminding him that they were friends, conspirators.

‘Ah, don’t give me that, coycrock,’ he slurred. ‘The radio you used to play that stupid fucking trick on me. Hand it over.’

Her face fell, as if slapped.

‘What’s the matter?’ he sneered. ‘Don’t you like being spoken to like you’re a piece of shit? Fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Hand it over.’

He held out his hand.

‘I’m gonna tell Leah you were drinking with Jed and Luke,’ she hit back. She heard how she sounded – like a child, spiteful, hurt. She wasn’t his ‘cherub’ anymore.

‘You tell her what the fuck you like, coycrock.’ He gave an arrogant sniff. ‘Make up whatever shit you want. You’re good at that.’

‘She lied to me too!’

‘That right?’

‘You two are supposed to be together! I gave you a chance to fight for that. You could have been the hero that night, shoved him off the edge of the cliff, that… that…’ at a loss for words, she stole from Saul ‘… that piece of shit.’

He had to smile then, just a little. ‘Yeah, well…’ He sighed and turned to go back to the Anchor.

‘That’s it, is it?’ she said. ‘You’re just giving up?’

‘I’m going to finish my drink.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m thirsty, and because… what is it you say, or your mum told you? … you can’t run away from your fate.’

‘Fate’s fate,’ Viola muttered reluctantly.

‘Fate’s fate,’ he parroted.

Something passed between them then – a sadness. Viola shook it off.

‘But why drink with them?’ she implored.

He rolled his tongue across his teeth, looked out to sea.

‘Because I have to live here,’ he said. ‘And so do you. Which is why you hang out with that bunch of devil-worshippers, I’m guessing.’

‘You know they’re not. You know!’

Luke Signal emerged from the Anchor then and Viola watched him, over Saul’s shoulder, pint in hand, settling himself against the doorframe to observe their conversation. He nodded a greeting to her and she shivered, involuntarily.