‘Kris messaged me to meet down here this morning.’ She points over to him at his tripod and smiles at Will. ‘Not sure what the point of me being here is. Not exactly teamwork, is it? Think he just wants a muse.’ She draws out the word. ‘He was shooting graffiti on the tower wall when I saw the smoke.’

Will stands rigidly with his hands jammed in his pockets and looks over at the Martello tower a hundred metres along the beach. Built in the 1800s and looking like a massive concrete pork pie, the derelict fort is an irresistible canvas for anyone who enjoys tagging public property. He thinks of Nain’s rant, her suggestion of him ‘right up at the top’. The building’s been sealed up for decades, no way to reach the roof without some serious scaffolding.

‘How’s things with Danny?’ Will asks. It’s an emergency question because he can think of nothing else to say. He doesn’t actually care how things are with Danny. It’s possible he’d rather not know.

‘Think he’ll be popping the question any day now.’

‘Right.’

‘Maybe a spring wedding.’

‘Cool.’

‘I’m shitting you, Will. Lighten up, man. I’m not sure we’re even together. Are we together, you reckon?’

‘It’s … We don’t talk about that sort of stuff.’

This isn’t really true. Danny likes to drop little brags. Just last night he kept making squealing noises while rolling his eyes back in his head and twitching his eyelids, insisting it was the perfect impression of April’s come face.

‘Not sure it’s an exclusive thing,’ she says.

Will shrugs but knows better than to confirm her suspicions, correct though he knows them to be. ‘You like him, though?’

‘Do I?’ April says back.

Will smiles at the absurdity of her asking him.

‘Well, I guess I must do, I suppose. People do, don’t they?’ She shrugs. ‘Never mind that shit. Where’s your dog?’

He unwinds the lead from his hand, annoyed that he neglected to put it away before walking over here. ‘Yeah, he’s …’

‘I can hardly hear you,’ she says over the quickening wind.

Will comes a few paces closer. ‘He’s OK. Round somewhere.’

‘What is he?’

‘Just a mixture. Nain calls him a Heinz 57. Lots of varieties, you see.’ Will feels a moment’s guilt for the untruth in what he’s telling her, but knows it’s easier this way.

The ground shakes as something explodes.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ April mumbles, staring back over the town again.

‘You a member?’ Will asks. ‘Of the library?’

She smiles sadly at him. ‘Oh yes.’

‘Me too.’

‘I kind of owe my life to that place.’

‘How so?’

‘It was like my hiding place. Long story. Maybe without it I wouldn’t be here now.’ She shakes her head. ‘Boring!’ she shouts. ‘Always rely on me to make –’