‘Where’s your car? I didn’t see it outside.’

‘I didn’t bring it. I walked.’

He dropped his hand. ‘Then I’ll take you home. You can’t walk back – the storm’s rolling onto shore.’

‘I’ll be fine. Really, I’d rather walk.’ She couldn’t bear the idea of being in the confined space of a car with him, trying to make small talk. Five years, and he was still buying his wife pickles he couldn’t bring himself to throw out. The tragedy of it was too awful. ‘Besides, you’ve got to get Robbie to bed.’

He looked at her, trying to fathom her out, a spark of concern deep in his eyes. Robert glanced over at his son, still at the table, and then back to her.

‘I can look after myself,’ she reminded him.

‘Well, if you get down to the harbour and change your mind, you call me. And let me know when you get home. I’ll not sleep otherwise.’

Anna gave a faint smile. ‘All right.’

He frowned. ‘Robbie, say thank you and goodbye.’

The boy shocked her by jumping up from the table and throwing his arms around her waist, holding on to her tightly. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

She wrapped her arms around him for a moment, hugging him against her belly, against the hidden bundle of nerves within. For a moment she felt tears pressing behind her lashes again. Bloody hormones, she thought, desperate that neither of them should see.

Robert followed her into the hallway to the door, watching silently as she pulled on her coat.

‘Anna,’ he said, when her hand was on the latch. ‘Are you all right?’

‘A bit tired, that’s all,’ she said, turning and flashing a quick smile. ‘I’ll see you sometime soon, I’m sure.’

There was a slight pause. ‘Yeah,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you. Really, you were a lifesaver. And don’t worry. I promise I won’t ask again.’

Nothing she could have said then would have been right. She nodded and pulled open the door. ‘Night, Robert.’

‘Night.’

Outside, a strong wind was whipping the first drops of cold rain into flurries that stung her cheeks. Anna turned down towards the ocean and then stopped for a moment, breathing in the coming storm. By the time she reached the harbour it was raining hard, but she had no intention of going back to the MacKenzie house. In Gamrie’s harbour she saw the trawler Liam crewed on moored securely against the bobbing water, in port because of the storm that had seen the lifeboat called out. She stared at it, rain peppering her face, wind tearing at her hair. Across the bay flickered the faint lights of Crovie, the cliff a sheer block of darkness between.

Anna pulled out her phone.

‘Liam,’ she said, through lips growing numb, when he answered. ‘Are you in Gamrie? I need to talk to you.’