‘I don’t normally thrust myself on visitors when they arrive but . . . Sorry, I’m really not being clear. I thought I recognised you, and please forgive me if I got this wrong . . . but it is you, isn’t it? Nell. Nell Galilee. We were at school together.’

The bridge swung back into place with a soft thud, and after a moment or two the gates were opened and the small crowd that had gathered began to swarm past.

‘I – yes.’

‘I thought so. I used to see you around, now and then – but never to stop and chat. And then of course your dad passed away. Two or three years ago.’

‘Five now.’

‘Goodness. Has it been so long? Are you back for David’s party?’

The same question. It was inevitable, of course. ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Nell couldn’t place the woman. There was nothing familiar about her. If she hadn’t called her by her name, Nell might have told her she was mistaken, that they had never met at all.

‘And this is your daughter?’ The woman turned her smile onto Maude who was edging closer, all ears.

‘My stepdaughter; Maude.’

‘Hello.’

‘Hi,’ said Maude.

‘Do you need a hand?’ asked Carolyn. ‘With your shopping?’

‘No. No, we’re fine.’ Nell picked up her share of the carrier bags, which were slick and beaded with moisture. ‘We’d better get on though.’

‘Well, we’ll go along together, shall we?’

*

Carolyn insisted they join her for coffee, and Nell couldn’t quite make her initial refusal stick. ‘We should get on,’ she’d said, ‘finish unpacking.’ She’d looked to Maude as if she might back her up at this point, but Maude had avoided her eye, smiling politely at Carolyn instead.

‘Oh, that can wait, surely.’ Carolyn led the way up the steps and into Spinnaker Cottage. ‘You’re on holiday, after all.’

*

The front door opened straight into a long low kitchen, dominated by a battered pine table heaped with magazines and piles of clothes, some ironed, some still waiting to be dealt with.

‘Sorry about the mess,’ said Carolyn, dropping her bags in front of the fridge. She switched the kettle on and began to open cupboards, picking out mugs and a cafetière. ‘Now, Maude, what would you like? We have milk, or would you prefer some apple juice?’

‘Juice, please,’ said Maude.

The door opened. ‘Ah, there you are,’ said Carolyn. A teenage girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with long fair hair stood in the doorway. It was, Nell realised after a moment, the girl from the beach. ‘What have you been up to?’

‘Revision, at the library.’

‘I see. Evie, this is Nell, we were at school together, back in the dark ages. And this is Maude.’

‘Oh right, hi.’ A polite smile. ‘We met this morning, didn’t we? I’m sorry about Flossie, she gets a bit over-excited some-times.’