‘There’s you hunted, about to go out with the tide. There’s you with Folly. There’s you with Gus. There’s you with me. There’s you –’

‘Killing my mother.’

‘I wasn’t going to say that.’

‘You were. Be honest, stay honest. We are near death, both of us.’

‘All right, there’s you killing your mother. End of conversation.’

Angrily, Matilda trod on the accelerator and drove fast on the main road.

‘Don’t drive so fast, there’s a Panda car behind you.’

Matilda slowed, letting the police car overtake them. ‘I’m frightened every time I see them. I was brought up to like them.’

‘So was I.’ Hugh looked at her profile. ‘Where’s the best place to eat?’

‘We’d better go somewhere quiet.’

‘No, I want a busy place. I don’t want a quiet place, as though I were hiding.’

‘All right. The best place is the Crab Inn if we can get a table.’

‘Does it have a bar?’

‘Yes.’

‘Right. Take us there.’

Matilda parked the car. They made their way to the restaurant along the crowded street. Hugh held Matilda’s arm, liking the feel of her skin, glancing about him at the people.

The Crab Inn was crowded. They agreed to wait for a table.

‘Let’s sit outside. Can we eat out, it’s pleasant.’

They were told they could. Hugh ordered drinks, sat facing Matilda who, with the sun in her eyes, screwed up her nose and sneezed.

‘I forgot my dark glasses.’

‘Stay here. I’ll get you some. Sit in my place.’ He did not offer Anabel’s glasses.

‘I’ll come too.’

‘Wait here. If there’s a free table, take it, start ordering. I shan’t be long.’ Hugh loped off up the street. He bought a plain pair of dark glasses for Matilda, guessing at the fit, then went to a travel agency. He enquired the times of trains to London before strolling back to Matilda.

‘They are just getting us a table overlooking the harbour.’

‘Nice.’ He handed her the dark glasses.

‘Thank you.’ She put them on.

A waiter brought the menu. Hugh asked for the wine list.

‘What’s good here?’

‘They do a delicious smoked trout paté. The crab’s always good. Sometimes they do a lovely goat cheese with garlic, blows your head off.’

‘We could finish with that. I shall have the trout paté. What’s the steak like today, waiter?’

‘Well – sir –’

‘Okay, not steak then. I’ll have the gigot of lamb, the paté first and the goat’s cheese. What will you have Matilda?’

‘Just the gigot, the cheese and salad.’

‘And a bottle of No. 17 please.’ The waiter scribbled on his pad.