James shrugged and Nicole went back over Charlie’s letter.

‘I just can’t believe … it had to be an accident.’ Though Charlie’s words were clear. In a drunken rage he’d set fire to his house, wife and child trapped inside.

‘I’m still trying to figure it all out. Alcohol can do funny things to people. Turns you into someone you’re not. It had a hold of him good, that much I know. I also know he pulled me out of the flames. There was nothing left of the house. My mum, Hannah, she never blamed him, you know. She tried to find him once. But she was weak. The firefighters managed to get her out, but her lungs were never the same. It wasn’t long after that that she died.’

His voice wavered. Nicole held his hand.

‘I was so young. All I’ve got to go on is in here, really.’ He took back the letter and folded it carefully. ‘And what you’ve told me.’

Nicole breathed out and shook her head, thinking of the three different Charlies now unmasked. The guilt-ridden exile who’d saved Ivy’s life and had been her loyal companion, the man in her letters; the angry, violent drunk described in his own words; the gentle recluse Nicole herself knew and loved.

Over dinner that night, James was particularly quiet. ‘Nicole. I’ve been thinking. About the cottage. My life is in Sydney and until I figure out what any of this Charlie stuff means, it doesn’t feel right to sell this place. Would you be interested in renting it for another twelve months?’

Nicole had to stop herself from launching across the table to hug him.

‘I would love that, very much.’

James nodded.

The next day Nicole helped him load his suitcase into his car. ‘See you in a few weeks.’

‘Next time, I’ll stay longer. Organise a proper replacement at the hospital.’ He squeezed her hand.

‘Oh, please do. And study that dictionary of yours. Scrabble match first night you’re back.’

‘Will do,’ he said. ‘Would you mind if I bring my family next time? You can meet the kids.’

‘I’d really like that.’

Days faded into weeks, and spring melted into summer.

Nicole sat at her desk with a cup of tea. On his last visit, James had helped her move it into the boatshed, under the portal window that looked out to sea. She and Mandy had cleared out the old building, sorting through Ivy and Charlie’s things. Trevor had built shelves and cupboards around the walls and it was starting to feel like a proper study.