She emptied her glass and poured in some more whisky, ‘He did tell you, did he, Etienne? He did tell you that he ran off with my husband… My dear brother and my loving husband… I loved them both and they became lovers and made me a laughing stock! Still… You’ve paid for it, haven’t you Hywel? You’ve paid dearly for it! And now you, Etienne Chosson,’ she said, shaking her head and waving the fruit knife she’d lifted from the table in his face, ‘You with your suave and sophisticated French ways and your vineyard… You want to take him away from me… No, Monsieur Chosson,’ she whispered, stabbing the knife into an orange in the fruit bowl, ‘no! Over my dead body. My sweet little Hywel hasn’t finished paying yet.’

They lay in one another’s arms in the deep peace that came to them after making love; all Hywel could hear, aside from Etienne’s breathing, was the sea folding onto the beach below the house.

‘Was she serious?’ Etienne asked, breaking into the rhythm of the waves.

‘She was drunk, and I’m sorry she behaved so badly.’

‘Yes, but does she mean what she says? Is she going to make things difficult for us?’

‘I don’t know… She knows that Marc had lots of men before and after they were married, but she chooses to believe that I took him away from her, and for that she has never forgiven me… It suits her that way.’

‘And does she depend on you for money?’

‘Not any more. She’s doing all right from the gallery… She doesn’t believe that what she’s turning out is fine art, but it’s commercially successful.’

The waves filled the silence between them and then Hywel said, ‘It was the drink talking… She won’t be difficult… Let’s go to sleep.’

Lowri sharpened her mother’s large cloth-cutting scissors and put them in the leather shoulder bag she always took with her everywhere. She knew that they would be out; Etienne had told her how much he was looking forward to their hike over Cader Idris. She let herself in and went directly to Hywel’s bedroom. She’d always liked the view from there, out across Cardigan Bay to the Llŷn and Ynys Enlli; she sat in the window seat, and enjoying the view, she shredded every item of Etienne’s clothing. Afterwards she pulled the light, summer quilt off Hywel’s bed, and seeing the stains of their lovemaking, she plunged the scissors, through the sheet and deep into the mattress, twice, three times… Four… And more… Again and again until she was exhausted. Then she went home and started to prepare the late supper she’d promised the two boys after their day’s hike.

They sat next to one another in the window seat. ‘She needs help, Hywel,’ Etienne said, hardly able to take it in. ‘Someone who can do something like this needs help and they need it soon.’

‘I don’t know what got into her… I’m so sorry… Look… Of course, I’ll pay for new clothes…’