The silence in the car grew more awkward as they waited, and Josephine was casting round for something harmless to say when Rachel Lancaster beat her to it. ‘I don’t want to stay here,’ she announced from nowhere, and Marta and Josephine looked at her in surprise. ‘Gerry, please – let’s leave now, while we still can. This was a mistake.’ 84

Lancaster turned round, and Josephine felt his wife flinch in the seat next to her. He must have caught her expression because he seemed to check himself, responding more kindly than he had intended. ‘You’re just tired, darling. It’s been a long day,’ he said, but there was a cajoling note in his voice which was almost as unpleasant as his temper. ‘You’ll feel better once we’ve settled in.’ Rachel stared out of the window, refusing to meet his eye, and he looked at Josephine instead. ‘Perhaps you could give us a moment in private?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Marta got out and Josephine followed, glad to feel the air on her face after the stuffiness of the car.

‘Well, that wasn’t very comfortable, was it?’ Marta said as they walked over to the quayside, putting a discreet distance between themselves and the argument. ‘I hope we’re not seated next to those two at dinner – if they’re staying for dinner, that is.’

‘The very thought of it fills me with horror,’ Josephine admitted. ‘I think I might come down with something infectious and have a tray in my room.’ She glanced back to the car, where the Lancasters seemed to be in animated conversation. ‘Did you see the bruise on her arm? I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but …’

‘Bastard. If I see him lay a finger on her …’

‘Sssh, it will only make things worse if they know we’re talking about them.’ She looked over to the Change House, hoping that Trannack would soon be back to dilute the tension, but the only person on that side of the harbour was a solitary figure, dressed in black, who had just come out of the cemetery; for no apparent reason, the man turned at the head of the causeway and stared back in their direction, looking at the car for a long time before moving on. He strode out 85towards the mainland with his head bowed against the stiff Atlantic breeze – exposed and vulnerable, and yet somehow threatening. Unsettled by the image, Josephine shivered.

‘Let’s have a look at that museum,’ Marta suggested. ‘We’ll catch our deaths if we just stand here.’

There was no light coming from inside the building, although the sign on the door said it was open. The window display featured various local curiosities – cannon balls fired during the Civil War, a spider crab with four claws – and a handwritten notice promised many more inside. ‘At least we’ll be out of the cold,’ Marta said, ‘and I’ve always wanted to know more about tin mining.’

She pushed at the door and a bell rang as it opened, but a voice from behind distracted her. ‘Excuse me! Hello!’