She said, “And is there a wife back down in London? A family?”

“No,” Tommy said.

“Well.” Fiona hesitated. “Plenty of time for all that. I suppose we all settle down very young out here. We must seem dull to you.”

“No,” Tommy said again. “Not at all.”

“I think he’s just being polite,” Malcolm said, feeling the strain of this conversation. “Not much for a young lad to do round here.”

“And how long will you be visiting?” Fiona said.

Malcolm was curious about this too, though he wished Fiona hadn’t put Tommy on the spot.

“I’m not sure yet,” Tommy said. “It depends.”

“On work, I suppose,” Fiona said. “Doesn’t everything always depend on work?”

There was a pause, then Tommy said, “Yes.”

The three of them stood looking at each other for a few moments. Malcolm said, to save them all, “Well, we’d better be getting on. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Of course,” Fiona said quickly. “The nights are closing in, aren’t they? So nice to see you again, Tommy. You take care.”

Tommy gave Fiona a formal smile, said, “You too,” and finally she walked on, calling over her shoulder, “Have a good evening.”

Malcolm and Tommy continued in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Tommy said, “What was it I threw at her?”

Malcolm gave him a sidelong glance. “A crystal rooster.”

“You remember it then?”

“Just barely.”

Tommy nodded. “I think she might too.”

It’s not that, Malcolm almost said, but stopped himself. Better for Tommy to think it was only the rooster.

Tommy didn’t speak again for the rest of the walk. When they got back to the cottage, he disappeared upstairs. He was upset, Malcolm knew, but he felt he had no real grasp of the nature of Tommy’s distress, or what on earth he might say to comfort him.

When it had got to six thirty and Tommy still hadn’t reappeared, Malcolm went upstairs and tapped softly on his door.

“Tommy?” he said.

After a moment, he heard sounds from within, and then Tommy opened the door.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Malcolm said.

Tommy considered for a few moments. “O.K.”

He followed Malcolm downstairs and sat at the kitchen table while Malcolm made the tea. He had the slightly dazed air of someone who’d just woken up, but Malcolm didn’t think he’d been asleep.

After taking the first few sips of his tea, Tommy said, “I threw a lot of things, didn’t I?”

“I suppose,” Malcolm said.

“I remember the rooster,” Tommy said, “because I felt so bad about it afterwards. Because of Heather. It was hers. It wasn’t mine to break.”

“She didn’t care about that.”

“I suppose I had a bad reputation,” Tommy said. “Before I left the island.”

“You were just a child, Tommy. You were grieving.”

“Everyone must remember it.”