The rest of July passed peacefully for Anna. The lunch club continued to be fully booked out every day she opened her kitchen. As the month turned over into August, though, the weather closed in. It began to rain, lashing against the Fishergirl’s Luck in harsh torrents that sounded more like rocks being thrown at the walls than water falling from the sky. The waves churned, the sea’s swirling colours melding into a blanket of dull grey that fused with the indistinguishable horizon. The forecast was not promising – this was not going to blow out soon – and so Anna used the social media accounts she had set up for the Fishergirl’s Luck to cancel lunch club for the week. She was glad of her decision when, three days later, the rain was still falling and the road down into the village had turned into a river.

Anna cooked evening meals for those of Pat and Frank’s guests who did not want to brave the road, and for a few other holiday makers stuck in the village. She dashed back and forth to the Fishergirl’s Luck for equipment and ingredients and was drenched every time she set foot outside the door. By Friday though, when the forecast showed the rain was going to continue for longer yet, the last of the village’s guests decided to cut short their stay and leave.

‘This is ridiculous,’ Pat said, as the three of them sat at the kitchen table in the Weaver’s Nook, listening to the rain. It was already dark, though it was barely touching three o’clock. ‘I’ve never known it like this.’

‘I’m worried,’ Frank muttered over his mug. ‘The cliff can’t take much more of this.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Pat shivered.

‘I’m serious. I even asked Douglas to come and stay here, to be out of the way if it does come down.’

‘What did he say?’ Anna asked.

Frank snorted. ‘What do you think? Daft old sod.’

On Sunday Anna was sitting at her breakfast bench working on the cookbook project for Melissa Stark when Robert MacKenzie appeared at her door, the yellow of his fisherman’s waterproof glistening with rain. Anna brought him into the warmth of the bothy.

‘I wanted to check on you,’ he said, as she made tea. ‘Robbie wanted to come too but I wasn’t going to bring him out in this if I could help it.’

‘You didn’t come out in the boat?’ Anna asked, the thought of him navigating the raging waves between Gamrie and Crovie sending a visceral shiver down her spine.

‘No, I’d never risk it in the Cassie’s Joy,’ he said. ‘I came by road. How are you? Is there anything you need?’

‘Running low on milk but I’m otherwise fine.’