He winces, holds out his palms. ‘When you first looked at me as a five-year-old kid, I knew.’

There should be questions. So many. But I can’t ask them. I can’t even think them. It’s too much. Too much to accept. That Mum hadn’t lied. That the five-year-old me hadn’t lied; hadn’t believed a lie. That when Robert died, I was born.

‘I didn’t know how to tell you,’ Charlie says. ‘I knew I should tell you the truth this time. That if I didn’t, you would just keep coming back. Like a fishing boat to port.’ He stops. His eyes are bright with unshed tears. ‘So I tried to help you see. But it was so hard, just another terrible mistake. It …’

I feel suddenly exhausted. I look back down at the rabbit burrows, that flat warm stone. The pinks and purples and yellows and whites. ‘What does tha mi duilich mean?’ My voice is shaking, but I feel completely numb.

‘“I’m sorry”. It means “I’m sorry”.’

I think of Will’s name in my mouth as it escaped upwards away from all that black water, leaving me behind. I’m sorry. And the sob that breaks out of me sounds more like a howl. I drop hard onto my knees, one hand over my mouth as another and another shake through me. Will.

‘Maggie. Maggie.’ Charlie’s arms come around me and he pulls me against his chest. He holds me so hard I can barely breathe. His heartbeat thunders against my ear. His tears dampen my skin. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

I cry like I’ve never cried before. Kneeling in the grass and mud, surrounded by the Atlantic waves, a carpet of colour, and a blue sky clouded white. I cry even when my voice gives out and my lungs burn as if I’m drowning. I cry for Robert. For me. And for the five-year-old child for whom there had never been a difference.

CHAPTER 40

I stop on the edge of the grass, look up at the white stone cottage with its red door and carved wooden plaque. Tuathanas Àrd Chreag. When I look across at the blackhouse, I see that someone has taken away the birds, and wonder if it was Will.

Face it, I think. Confront it.

The door is ajar, so I open it, step up into the narrow hall. Will is sitting at the kitchen table, his shoulders slumped, long legs sprawled out in front of him. He looks up at me, still standing in the hallway.

‘Maggie.’

I can’t move. I’ve forgotten so quickly. How it feels to look at him. To have him look at me.

‘I didn’t know about Mum.’ His voice is hoarse. His eyes red-rimmed. ‘I promise you. I never knew.’

‘I know. It’s okay.’ I make myself go into the kitchen.

‘It’s not okay.’ He stands up. ‘None of this is okay. It’s crazy.’

He comes towards me, and it takes everything I have not to run, not to look away.