Elle tried to explain how she’d become so caught up in college life when she’d first moved away that gradually her visits home had lessened and lessened. And when she went to London, the already tenuous connections were reduced even further. It wasn’t that she’d intentionally abandoned their friendship, or ignored her wedding, but—

‘Life gets in the way,’ Hazel said smiling. ‘Of course, I understand that and I don’t blame you. I did the very same thing myself when I went to Waterford. College life always undermines old friendships, and if I hadn’t met Glenn and moved back here, I’m sure I would’ve been the very same.’

And Hazel hadn’t thought her idea was bad either, not at all. She had tweaked it here and there, and given Elle a few useful tips. But looming over the whole thing was Doug Grant, who had taken on the proportions of a villain in Elle’s mind.

When she thought of him now, it was almost like a caricature: a top hat perched on his slick head, his long, pale fingers gripping at a cane, cash stuffed into his pockets. Don’t be stupid, she told herself sternly. He’s just a man, and like any other he must have a weak spot. He must have a heart too, though she couldn’t quite be sure where he had it hidden.

She took the coast road up to the hotel, and looked around with new appreciation for the beauty of her surroundings. She decided that the place had hooked her, that her eyes could never tire of gazing upon the bay’s serene beauty.

Over the years in London she had got used to staring at the grey grid of the city streets and the endless rush of people, but it took something from you, watching the endless movement and the drive to be somewhere else. Whereas the more tranquil vistas of the small coastal town replenished you, gave something back that you hadn’t known you were missing. Here, there was only the lazy glide and swoop of the seagulls to watch, small groups of tourists ambling down to the beach and the never-ending in and out motion of the waves.

The hotel too, was part of this calm, and now as much a part of the coastal landscape as if it had grown there, organically created – the walls growing slowly like a tree, the carpets creeping slowly across the floors like moss.