He must have seen me staring at them. ‘They’re penny loafers,’ he said, with an unmistakable glint of amusement. ‘You’re supposed to put a penny in them, but I put pound coins in mine.’

‘Like a wallet?’

He laughed. ‘For decoration.’

I hadn’t realised money could be used for decoration. When I looked back down at the coins they seemed to shine like the beams from a lighthouse.

‘Mum’s not sure about the new coins,’ I said. ‘She likes money you can fold, not pockets weighed down with shrapnel.’

‘Your mother sounds supremely sensible.’

I smiled. His voice was different to how I’d imagined it. Posher and gravelly as if he’d swallowed a handful of sand before talking.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Tamsyn Tresize.’ I hoped he wouldn’t notice me blushing.

‘A good Cornish name.’ He smiled again. ‘And pretty too.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Mr Davenport,’ I said, remembering my manners.

‘Max,’ he said. ‘You must call me Max.’

As he spoke I was hit by the peculiar sensation of being separated from my body and sitting up by the rock, watching Max Davenport talking to a girl with long red hair who looked identical to me.

‘Max? Are you ready to cook yet?’

The voice catapulted me back onto the terrace. I turned to see Mrs Davenport walking out through the door. She was dressed in a voluminous kaftan in peacock greens and blues, which was edged with gold and wafted out behind her as she moved. Oversized white-framed sunglasses concealed most of her face and her hair was piled into a bun on the top of her head, revealing heavy pearl and gold earrings at each ear.

‘You must be Tamsyn,’ she said.

Her voice was soft with a slight slur as if her words had melted into each other. She smiled and showed perfect white teeth and when she sashayed over to me with her hand outstretched, I almost didn’t take it, worrying that if I did I’d make it dirty.

‘Lovely to meet you. Your mother is an absolute godsend. I have literally no idea how we’d survive sans elle.’

‘Her mother?’ Max asked.

Mrs Davenport smiled. ‘The cleaner, darling.’

I swallowed as my reality bit at my ankles like a vicious dog. My eyes flicked over to Max. I watched for his reaction. Wondered if he now thought my name less pretty.

‘Amazing woman,’ he said and I beamed.

Edie came out of the house holding a green bottle and sat down. She beckoned to me and I went to her, though part of me wanted to stay and talk to Max about his shoes.

A short while later we were all sitting at the table and my cheeks ached with smiling. It was all I could do to stop myself laughing out loud. I thought of all those times I’d hidden myself in the sandy grass on the cliff and watched the Davenports eating – either out on the terrace or inside at the round white table in the sitting room – and sucked up every movement, every mouthful, every sip of every drink. It was all so familiar, the way she placed her knife and fork down precisely as she chewed, how he leant back in his chair to look out over the ocean, how he poured wine and she tipped her face to the sun. It was like I’d fallen into my favourite film.