‘No more climbing around on the cliff, Nell. Yes. I remember. I wasn’t going to do anything.’ She looked around the kitchen, she wished her dad hadn’t gone off like that; he would have had a plan for the day, they’d be out somewhere by now, doing something.

Someone had shoved the shoebox to one side of the kettle and Maude picked it up.

She took it to the table and opened it. ‘What are we going to do with this?’

‘You’re not supposed to be messing around with that.’

‘I’m not.’ Maude picked the shoe up and noticed how Nell flinched a little when she placed it in front of her. It was creased and slightly greasy looking, but the funny smell, as if it had been locked away somewhere damp for a very long time, was starting to feel familiar, comforting. ‘I’m interested.’

‘It’s not a toy.’

‘I know.’ Maude pulled out a chair and sat down with a thump. ‘But what are we going to do with it?’

‘Nothing. It’s not ours.’

‘We could find out about it.’

‘How?’

‘The internet.’

‘It’s too nice a day to be staring at a screen.’

That was such a rubbish excuse. Maude thought for a moment. ‘The museum, then? Evie said the museum might want it.’

‘Did she?’

‘When everyone was talking. She said about Ginny.’

‘Gina.’

‘We could go and see.’

‘It’s . . .’ But Nell seemed to think again, she pushed her workbook to one side. ‘OK. We could take it up and – I don’t know – we could see if Gina is around, have a chat with someone.’

‘Excellent.’ Maude pushed her chair back, ready to go.

‘But we are not keeping it, Maude. You do understand that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Nell,’ she said, placing the shoe back in its box, and trying to sound as though she meant it.

*

Nell hadn’t been to the museum for years. She and Chris had never bothered to take Maude on their previous visits, reasoning that she was too young, and it would have been too much effort, tucked out of the way as it was, in the park, far from the more obvious attractions of the seafront and the harbour.

‘Is this it?’ Maude looked up at the building: Victorian, red brick, solid and respectable. Double wooden doors, matching brass doorknobs shiny with use.

‘It is.’

Nell led the way in.

It hadn’t changed a bit.

There were dinosaur skeletons fixed into the walls and surrounded by glass-topped cabinets of smaller fossils, all care-fully classified. Other cases contained Iron Age flints and pottery shards, Roman glass, and medieval tiles. More held domestic objects from every conceivable era of history, or exotic items from distant lands brought back by long-forgotten sea captains.