In the channel there was a band of thick fog. A trail of dark smoke coiled out of the fog, transforming the horizon into one absolute and dreary blankness. In the smoke Wavery thought he deciphered the contour of a hull. When he looked again the shape had vanished.

2

The ape climbed urgently through the wild olives, the five fingers of fear on his back. At the base of the low wall shoring the road to Upper Battery, he sat and rested. His heart beat fast. He did not hear the herring gulls in the updraught, nor the lorries, only his booming heart.

The sea was in the wind. He could taste the spray. The wind blurted that his reign was over. It blew against his cheeks and unbalanced the haughty gulls. He listened to its argument. It blew through his beard, over his arms and stomach, blowing coldness onto cracked teeth and fingers knobbly with arthritis, patterning its current on the grey winter fur where his body had lost its slenderness and his hunger was audible.

A gall wasp circled his nose. He batted the wasp away and the sun burst from the silver case in his hand. He held it against his face. The surface was curved and it smelled of dry tobacco. An inscription read LAWRENCE – FROM EDWINA, WITH LOVE and there was a date. Mesmerised, he inspected the outcrop of limestone over his shoulder, the military pylons above him, the slopes of Middle Hill spotted with corn poppies. He rotated the silver and in the net of fine scratches he caught his own features.

He was contemplating the wound on his neck where Philip had bitten to the bone, when there was a movement in the reflection. He sprang about. Twenty yards to the left of him, the wild olives shifted and Charles’ head appeared.

Until last night, Charles had been his sentry. But last night Philip had challenged him. Afterwards, Charles had blocked his path. They faced each other, listening to sounds in the leaves. They were the sounds of his children’s heads being ripped from their shoulders.

Charles’ appearance meant Philip was not far away. If Philip was near, so were Marlene, Catriona, Germaine.

There was a shriek of alarm and Charles disappeared in a blur of light fur. Futilely, he hurled the case after him. He was alone in the darkness of his fear. Desire also resounded in that darkness. He felt the buffets of his desire, his fear. Hungry, frustrated, angry and lonely, he climbed the wall.

The shutter closed on the telescope. Wavery’s time was up and he had not seen Abyla. He raised his head and, hearing a scuffle, looked down into a pair of fierce brown eyes. Had he reacted by gathering up his bag and retreating he might have avoided the embarrassment of what happened next. As it was, his attention remained elsewhere. He continued staring, with the result that the ape bared its chipped teeth and let out such a growl of distress that Wavery was compelled to step back – and so abandon the plastic bag he last saw as a yellow flash tumbling down the hillside between clumps of lavender borago.