Kerensa took him by the hand. ‘Come with me, there’s something I must show you, something I must do. I pray you’ll understand, but I believe our love is strong enough for there to be no more secrets between us.’

As they walked they looked down at the pebbles, hands held tight, hearts heavy, for both had something that must be told.

Kerensa stopped under a part of the cliff known as Mother Clarry’s Rock, a smooth-shaped spur which jutted out and formed the seat of a mythical witch, who was said to have sat there on nights when there was a full moon to plot her evil misdeeds. Had Mother Clarry cast a spell over the inhabitants of the cove, dooming them to unhappiness? Kerensa’s parents had died young, her father from typhus, her mother in childbed, her grandfather had been murdered. She was soon to find out if she had been cursed herself, if the happiness she had regained with Oliver was to be everlasting.

Locating a particular large pebble of twisting black and white colour, Kerensa let go of Oliver’s hand. Lifting the pebble aside she scooped away fine shingle a foot deep. A tiny sealed leather bag appeared and she picked it up.

Oliver took it from her. ‘I think I know what’s in here,’ he said in the lowest of voices. He guided her to some flat rocks where they could sit down.

Kerensa’s heart seemed to rise and choke her as Oliver untied the drawstrings of the bag. He pulled out a lock of blond hair tied round with blue ribbon, and laid it on the palm of his hand.

She took his free hand, gaining courage from the fact that he did not pull it away. The restriction in her throat made her next words come out raw and husky. ‘I’m sorry I lied to you about throwing it away, Oliver.’

It was what he had feared for so long, and what he had been working at so hard to make his heart accept. His fist tightened round the evidence. He felt that his whole self was about to explode with rage and hatred. What she had admitted by keeping this lock of hair, hurt him so much he had to fight back the horrendous darkness invading his soul.

‘Trenchard has meant everything to you, Kerensa?’

She started to cry, tightening the grip on his hand, afraid he would tear himself away from her. ‘Yes, Oliver. Forgive me! Don’t let it spoil what we have now, I beg you. It’s all over, I swear to you it will never happen again. It’s you I love, really love, from the bottom of my soul.’