‘No luck?’ Pendean called, coming out of the Change House.

‘No, she’s obviously not at home. How about you?’

‘Trannack’s up for it, as long as you’re happy to wait for low tide, and he says he’ll get John Mathews to come as well – he’s our postman, and he’s seen a fair few rough crossings in his time, so you’ll be in safe hands.’ He looked with concern at the museum, and knocked on the door himself. ‘The chaps in the Change House say they haven’t seen Emily all day. I hope she’s all right.’ 219

‘Does she live alone?’

‘Yes, since her husband died.’

‘And she couldn’t have gone away for Christmas?’

‘Not unless it was a last-minute thing. Her son’s up country in Plymouth now, and she’s supposed to be coming to us later. It was her first Christmas on her own, so Nora asked her over for supper. I think she’d have let us know if her plans had changed.’ He rattled the door, but it was firmly locked.

‘Do you want to force it?’ Penrose asked.

‘No need. Nora keeps a spare on her castle keys. I’ll ask her to nip down if she’s free.’

He went back to the Change House to use the house telephone and Penrose walked over to the causeway, trying to assess how difficult the task ahead would be. The sea swelled and churned against the harbour wall, its surge still strong even at a fraction of its power, and he hoped that he hadn’t made the wrong decision.

220

6

So this was how easily it happened, Nora thought, as her husband rang off and the line went dead. One slip, followed by another and then another, until someone noticed the inconsistencies and your life unravelled in front of you. She had lied to the guests on Christmas Eve about Emily’s absence from the museum, and then to the policeman about her time in the church, and now he would be waiting for her in the harbour because Tom was so hell-bent on doing the right thing. Ironic, she thought, that her husband’s simple wish to help should have sealed her fate.

Her fear dogged her progress down the Mount like a physical disability, making her footsteps heavy and slow, clutching at her heart until she found it hard to breathe. There was something malignant in the wind today, something in the fury of it that frightened and tormented her, perhaps because it reminded her of those last, terrible breaths that had taken Emily from the world; she heard them still in the wind’s persistent moaning, until it felt as if her friend would never let her rest. Above her, the branches of the ancient pine trees creaked and strained under the pressure, threatening to snap at any moment, and she knew exactly how that felt.

And there they were, below her in the harbour, waiting by Emily’s door. Her stomach tightened and she stopped in her tracks, wondering which of the two men she feared more. For a moment she was tempted to turn back, to make 221an excuse about her work and try to delay the inevitable, but that was all she would gain by prevarication – a few more hours of this desolate, insidious fear, and she honestly didn’t know how much longer she could stand it. It would almost be a relief to stop the charade now, no matter what the consequences.