‘Well, really!’ Esther said, half-exasperated, half-relieved that childish quarrels could so soon be forgotten. Yet Kate’s association with Danny Eland brought Esther no comfort, no peace of mind whatsoever.

It was late afternoon before she saw Jonathan.

She had walked across the marshland beyond the road opposite her farm and up the rise of the far dunes. From here she would be able to see the houses at the Point and the Seagull. She could see the children playing round Ma Harris’s cottage, Kate amongst them and undoubtedly Danny Eland too. She could see Robert Eland on board his boat home spreading his nets, examining them for holes that would let the fish slip through.

She thought briefly of Beth. It was strange how they never seemed to run into each other. She could remember having seen her only once or twice since Danny’s christening, then only in the distance and Danny was four now. Certainly they had never met and spoken even though they lived only a few hundred yards from each other.

Then she saw Jonathan.

He was standing at the end of the Spit – her own special place. A lonely, motionless figure just staring out to sea.

As she watched him, the familiar fluttering began just below her ribs and she felt as if, even though she was out in the open, there was suddenly not enough air to breathe.

Then she was running, running. Bounding over the tufts of grass, jumping the sandy hollows, splashing through the rivulets winding across the marshy ground.

A little way from him she slowed, panting hard, watching him. Now she moved slowly towards him.

‘Jonathan.’ She breathed his name like a prayer. A prayer for forgiveness, for understanding.

He did not move.

His name caught in her throat on a sob. ‘Jonathan!’

She saw him jump physically and turn swiftly. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the sadness that was in his face before his joy at seeing her there filled his eyes with love.

He held out his arms to her and she ran into them. In that moment both of them were oblivious of the fact that they could be seen plainly from the cottages even though they were quite a distance away – and even more easily seen by Robert Eland on his boat if he cared to shade his eyes against the dazzling water and look in their direction.

Jonathan was kissing her mouth, her eyes, holding her fiercely in his arms.

‘I thought you’d gone,’ she gasped. ‘Gone away and left me. Forgive me . . .’

Between urgent kisses, he murmured, ‘We shouldn’t – we’ll be seen . . . Come – let’s go in the dunes.’

They ran along the narrow bank, clutching at each other, laughing with nervousness, with mutual joy. They gained the dunes and came to their special place, a natural hollow, sheltered from the sea breeze and safe from prying eyes, hidden even from the coastguard’s look-out.