‘That’s OK, I’m sorry I flew off the handle. You’ll find cloths in the cupboard under the sink and a mop outside the back door. Are you all right? You look rotten.’ She took a step into the room. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

He looked at her in silence, almost as if he didn’t know who she was. Then he said, ‘It’s all over.’

She walked to the table and pulled out a chair. ‘Sit down. Here, take off those trousers first.’

‘They’re all right.’

‘Just take them off and don’t be silly. Ten minutes will see them dry.’

He bent down and pulled off his shoes and then struggled out of his trousers. She held out her hand and he gave them to her. She tucked them neatly over the bar along the front of the Aga. He was still standing there looking absurd when she turned round. She pointed to the chair and he sat down.

‘What’s all over?’

She sat beside him and touched him gently on the shoulder.

He shook his head.

They both waited unmoving to see who would speak next.

Eventually Lar did.

‘I’m really not crazy.’

‘I never thought you were.’

‘Thanks.’

‘What is all over?’

‘I thought she would want me to …’

Oh God, thought Clara, how I hate long meaningful pauses.

‘… mourn for ever.’

‘No one can do that. No one can be expected to do that. Remember with joy is a good thing to do, but then get on.’

‘That’s what she said – “get on”.’

‘Who?’

‘Caitlin.’

He spoke the name so quietly that she thought she had heard him wrong.

‘Who?’

‘Caitlin.’

‘But … when did she say that?’

‘This morning, on the beach. She spoke. She was there. She touched me. She spoke.’

Clara scratched at her chin with a finger and stared past him out of the window.

‘You met Caitlin on the beach this morning?’

‘Well, not quite met, but she was there. She spoke to me.’

Clara sighed.

‘Clara …’

‘What did she say?’

‘ “To the elements be free, and fare thou well” .’

‘But,’ she said, remembering their conversation, then: ‘Well, that’s OK then, isn’t it? I thought you were going to come out with some long and soulful spiel. A sort of ghostlike diatribe. But that is good sensible stuff.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’d pay attention to that if I were you.’

The doorbell rang.

Pansy lifted her head and looked first at Lar and then at Clara.

‘The bell,’ said Lar.

She nodded and got up.

Pansy stretched her back out to its full length and opened and closed her front paws; she then sat up and looked expectantly towards the door.

It was the doctor on the doorstep.

‘Heavens,’ said Clara. ‘I thought you were in Oughterard.’

‘I came home.’

‘But you rang about an hour ago. I presumed you were calling from there.’

‘I was at home. May I come in?’

‘Why not?’