All day Molly watched them, too. They might have thought she was asleep in the deck chair under the front porch, a book turned facedown on her knee. It would have been understandable. She was elderly and had been up for half the night. In fact, she had more stamina than any of them, and through half-closed eyes she watched them. From her raised position she could see Rose on her bench with the view of the valley, and she could tell that Rose was watching, too, and waiting for something. Each time a car approached, the younger woman became tense until it appeared through the vegetation, and then there was disappointment. She must have been able to identify Rosco’s van just by the bangs and rattles as it came through the trees, because before she could see it, she had already relaxed. When she had seen it safely down the lane to the cottage on the shore, she felt able to leave her white bench and go inside to do other things.

Molly watched Duncan James waiting in the garden until it was his turn to be interviewed. She saw him stoop to examine the aquatic plants at the edge of the stream, as if the routine intellectual activity of identifying them would keep his mind from other, less pleasant things. And because the windows were open, she could hear what was going on inside the house, the constant telephone calls of Roger Pym, the surprising encouragement of Gerald Matthews, and the facetious mocking of Rob Earl.

When Rose took Gerald into the kitchen late in the afternoon to put things straight between them, she took no notice of Molly, dozing outside the open door. Even if the old lady did hear, she thought, what would it matter? It was time the thing was out in the open. It had been ridiculous to make a secret of it. Gerald went with her light-headedly. He had never felt so alive.

“I want to talk to you,” Rose said. “It’s about Tilly.”

He was immediately wary, prepared for disappointment.

“What about her?”

“Louis is her father.” He said nothing but stared down the valley.

“You don’t seem surprised,” she said.

“I’ve seen you around together,” he said. “You always seem very friendly.” He did not tell her that he was so used to disappointment that even in the excitement of the morning he was preparing for it. He did not tell her that pride was all he had left, so he was not going to let her see how hurt he was. What about Greg Franks? he wanted to scream. Where did he come into all this? What was he doing here?

“There are things you don’t know about Louis,” she said. “ Things you don’t understand. When he first came to Porthkennan, he confided in me. I felt sorry for him.”