It was the wrong answer, of course, and Nell felt a twinge of sympathy for her stepdaughter as her enthusiasm seemed to visibly dwindle.

‘OK.’

‘Do you want to help with breakfast?’

‘If you like.’ Maude looked up at the cliff again, frowning. ‘It’s very close,’ she said.

‘You’ll get used to it,’ said Nell. ‘Come on. We’ll get started, then you can go wake your dad up.’

Chapter 4

4

All the other houses in the yard were most likely, in Nell’s opinion, holiday lets. Which meant the blonde woman who’d come to the door last night would soon be gone. They had the party next weekend, then they’d have the rest of their stay to themselves; time to relax, to look after each other. It had been a good idea, after all, she thought; a family holiday was exactly what they needed, they’d make it work. She’d make it work.

Someone had bolted the gate, and after opening it – and shepherding Maude and Chris through first – Nell didn’t bother to close it again.

‘What shall we do?’ said Maude. ‘Where shall we go?’

If they turned left, they’d walk past Nell’s childhood home, and it might be nice to climb the bankside there and take the short cut up to the headland and the abbey. They’d stop halfway up the path and Nell would show Maude where she used to live, pointing out the kitchen window, and her old bedroom above it. But the lace curtains and potted geraniums would have vanished. It wouldn’t be the same; it wouldn’t be home.

‘We should really get some shopping done,’ Nell said. ‘Get organised.’

‘Boring,’ said Maude.

‘Yeah,’ said Chris, ‘so boring.’ The two of them ganging up on her, as usual.

‘So what do you suggest?’

‘Well,’ said Chris, hooking his arm through hers, ‘we could go for a walk instead. You choose, Maudie, shop or beach?’

‘Beach, please.’ Her response almost instant, as if they’d planned it behind Nell’s back.

*

The beach hadn’t changed, it was still scruffy and windswept in the dull morning light, reminding Nell of when she was a little girl, and all the times they’d struggled across it; she and her gran, with their bags and their towels and the fading wind-breaker. The careful pacing of the sand to find the right spot.

It all seemed so very long ago.

Nell stopped to take in the view as Chris marched on towards the Nab, where the cliff curved down and into the sea, forming a natural harbour that was extended and reinforced by the long sandstone pier stretching towards its twin across the estuary. She was almost halfway along the strand, the broken trail of dried seaweed and sticks, with the odd seagull feather trapped and fluttering in the breeze. Maude stood next to her, looking out at the harbour mouth, facing due north.