Hannah knocked on Noah’s door, nerves fluttering in her stomach.

‘Hey,’ he said, beckoning her into the room. ‘What’s the verdict?’

‘The verdict is that you and Cornwall have got me for another few days.’

‘I’m glad. You shouldn’t be going anywhere in this.’

‘You’re staying put too, Daniel said.’

‘I’ve no reason to go back, and it actually … helps things if I’m here for a few days. I’m paying for the room.’

‘Why does it help?’

Noah glanced out at the storm, then looked back at Hannah. ‘I’ve been staying with my folks, and while their hospitality is second to none, it does feel a bit as if I’m a teenager all over again. Staying at the hotel suits us all.’

‘You haven’t got your own place in Mousehole?’

‘I have, but I’m not there at the moment.’

Hannah waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Was this to do with the difficult situation he mentioned? Did he have an infestation of rats, or bats, or squirrels? Was his house about to fall into the sea, and someone was trying to sort out the subsidence? She wondered why he was reluctant to tell her and why, on this occasion, she felt she couldn’t ask. The photo of him and Beth flashed into her mind, reminding her that he was just a colleague.

‘What will you do with your day?’ she asked instead. ‘We could meet up later, in the snug? Perhaps start on the costings.’

‘Good plan,’ he said, but the brightness had left his eyes. ‘Let’s get together this afternoon.’

‘Sure. Great.’ She edged towards the door, gave him a quick, idiotic wave and then returned to her room. The day stretched ahead of her, full of possibility. What, she wondered, should she do first?

The swimming pool at Crystal Waters was beautiful, with a wall of windows that looked out on the most sunken part of the gardens and the outdoor pool – covered at this time of year – then the sea beyond. Currently the view was obliterated by rain, the wind unrelenting, but it somehow made the blue-tiled interior even more of a sanctuary: spotlights in the ceiling, loungers lining one wall and a water cooler in the corner, the space with a gentle, welcoming humidity. Hannah stepped to the edge, then lowered herself to the tiles and slipped into the water, feeling a shock of cold before warm currents pooled around her legs and middle.

There were only three other people in there: a man with greying hair doing laps and a couple on adjacent loungers, the woman reading a Kindle and the man flicking through a Christmas catalogue. Hannah wondered just how badly the weather had affected Daniel’s bookings.

She started her first length, quickly finding her rhythm, even though the pool was much smaller than the one she was used to. She had spent the morning in her room, had left a message on her brother’s voicemail asking him to call her back, had scanned through her and Noah’s report, recapping in preparation for the next stage, but she had found it difficult to concentrate. She had wondered what Noah was doing. Was he lying on his bed with Spirit next to him? Had he ventured into the grounds to walk the dog, despite the wind and rain? Eventually she had snapped out of it. It wasn’t a productive way to spend her extra time in Cornwall; she should be taking advantage of the facilities on offer.