Instead he tinkered with the boat, checked the sail, checked his fishing lines, checked the bite and snag of his hooks. Only two visitors came that day: the sharp little man who’d asked if he could return, and the associate he’d mentioned, a nondescript man in humbler clothes than the suited gentleman. A man much like the sailors and shipwrights who’d come before, but not carrying the ego and self-importance they had. He could have been any one of the hundreds of farmers, labourers and rivermen in the valley. The one thing he wasn’t, Ned was sure of, was the suited man’s friend, despite what the gentleman had said. There was a deference, a stiltedness to their interactions. It was a relationship between an employer and employee, at best. Ned could read it when he saw them coming down to the boatshed. Could tell that things weren’t as the suited man had presented them to him.

The suited man greeted Ned warmly, as if they were old companions. ‘Master West, what an honour it is to be back here. Thank you for allowing me to bring along my old chum Harry. He advises me on all things to do with watercraft. Awfully clever chap. Knows his way around rudders and sails like no one else. Isn’t that right, Harry?’

The man named Harry ignored his introducer. He’d already moved to the shed and was circling the boat. Marching slow eyes across it. He put his hands on it, knelt down, bent over. He breathed in its scent. He lay on his back, stroked its angles. He leaned in and fiddled with the centreboard. Shook at the mast. He frowned at the rudder, but otherwise did not let emotion touch his features. After he’d seen and touched and tasted every part of the boat he directed a few short questions at Ned. Where did he get it? Did he know how it came into Falmouth’s possession? What had he treated the timber with? Had he sailed it much? Did it leak? Had he interfered with the structure at all?

Ned didn’t like the way this man spoke without looking at him, but he still gave him the truth. When he was satisfied, Harry left the boatshed, walked to the shore. Gave the gentleman a single nod as he passed him.

The man’s face squirmed. He drew in a long breath. Pushed it out through his nose, spread his hands, showed his teeth.

‘Now here’s the thing, Master West. You’re a smart young man, so you’ve no doubt cottoned on to my intentions. But I shall say it plainly, so there is no confusion, and so that you do not feel misled: I’d very much like to acquire this boat of yours.’

Ned tried to make his face polite. ‘Thank you for your interest, sir. But it’s not for sale.’