Belinda laughed. “Are they about to take over? And don’t tell me you are a communist? I seem to remember you were always fond of the good things of life.”

“I’d willingly change my tune to see that blighter Summers get his just deserts,” he snapped. “In fact if you’d like to put some rat poison in his tea while you’re there, I’d be very grateful. Do it for your old uncle, eh?”

“What an awful thing to say,” Belinda said.

He gave a high-pitched giggle. “Just a joke, you know. Anyway, must fly. Have to see a man about a dog before I catch the ferry back to Padstow with this lot. I have to repaint her bottom sometime. Toodle-oo. We must meet up at a pub while you are here. Catch up on the good old days at Trengilly, what?”

He didn’t wait for an answer but strode in the direction of the jetty.

Belinda turned to me. “Sorry if I didn’t introduce you but I can’t stand the man. I never could. I never trusted him even when I was a child. He was one of those uncles who liked to sit you on his knee and let his hands wander while all the time pretending he’s playing a game with you.”

“How awful,” I said.

She nodded. “Luckily in those days he was rarely home. He always had some sort of get-rich-quick scheme he was promoting or would find someone to take him to the Continent. Granny despaired of him. She’d say, ‘That boy will be the ruin of me yet.’ But I wonder why he chose to come back here again. I don’t see him enjoying a pint with local fishermen. Of course, if there is still smuggling going on, then that would be more his style.”

She started to walk away. “Come on. I think we’ve dallied long enough. We can head to the next unpleasant encounter at Trewoma.”

Chapter 9

OCTOBER 16

A HOUSE CALLED TREWOMA, CORNWALL

I’m not sure this is going to be an improvement on White Sails. Belinda isn’t at all keen, but we are stuck with it now, whether we like it or not. I have to confess I’m dying to meet Tony and see what he is like.

We returned to Belinda’s motorcar and to my relief she agreed it might be a good idea to put the top back up before we were rained on. After we had managed this we set off back up the estuary toward the headland. Neither of us spoke for a while. The tide was coming in as great waves rushed up the estuary to swallow the sandbars. The boats that had lain pitifully on their sides were now bobbing in water again.