Chapters (39)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Epilogue
- Author’s note
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
They reached the culvert in the centre of the village where the burn joined the sea beside the pier without too much trouble. Beyond, though, it was as if the cliff were a sack that had split its seams, spilling everything inside down on the houses furthest from the road. Anna had already known that the Fishergirl’s Luck was still standing because she’d been able to see it from the harbour at Gardenstown. That had planted the vague notion that it might have somehow remained untouched. But as she walked closer her foot scuffed at something underfoot. It was a large splinter of wood, painted blue. For a second she couldn’t place it, although it seemed familiar. Then she realized, with a sick jolt to her stomach, that it was part of one of the shutters that had covered her window. She’d known they’d been torn off, but seeing it there amid the soil underfoot stabbed a blade of misgiving into her gut. The feeling wasn’t diminished as they got closer and she saw Liam’s bench. It had been picked up from her garden and blown clear across the sea path to lean, upended, against the Weaver’s Nook. One of the planks that made up its surface had been torn in half, the rest of it was ragged splinters.
Her fences had vanished, swallowed whole by the sea. Of the four chimneys she had planted with flowers, three were gone completely and the other was shattered almost beyond recognition. There were tiles and shards of glass everywhere, a sea of slate grey and reflected sky. Anna looked up from the garden to see that the window to her bedroom had been smashed clear out of its frame. Through the gaping hole, she could see the sky. For a moment her mind couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Then she realized her roof had gone. It wasn’t only the slate that had been lifted, either. The storm had ripped out half the supporting struts and the internal gabled ceiling. As she stared up in shock, it began to rain again. The Fishergirl’s Luck was open to the elements.
With a cry Anna went for the front door. Robert held on to her.
‘It won’t be safe,’ he said.
‘I have to go in,’ she said. ‘There’s something I have to— I didn’t have time to pick it up when we left.’