She heard a sigh, a gentle rustle as though he was sweeping a hand across the branches. ‘I left a note at the bull house that night, as I said I would, asking you to meet me.’

She frowned. There had been a note from him?

‘I waited at An Lag but you didn’t come.’

An Lag? Not the storm cleit? Mathieson had switched the notes?

‘—I assumed your no-show was your answer, that you were facing up to a truth I didn’t want to see. I thought you were better able than me to see the reality of our situation and act . . . appropriately.’

There was another silence. ‘If I’d known you were . . .’ He cleared his throat. ‘With someone else . . .’

She pressed her hand harder over her mouth, the tears flowing over her own fingers, shaking her head at his words.

‘It was arrogant of me to presume you weren’t, of course.’ He sighed again. The sound was weary and . . . defeated. ‘You’re right to hate me. I hate myself. But you have to believe me when I say I’m sorry for all of it, Effie – for kissing you when I had no right, for thinking you might feel for me the way I felt for you. And I’m sorry for the way I behaved when you arrived here, too – my father had brought you in and I had no right making things so difficult for you.’

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

‘But I was angry, you see? I’d spent all those months trying to forget you, the way you’d obviously forgotten me. I’d thought that if I could just give it some time, the memory of you would fade and I’d be able to accept my future with Sid again. We had been happy enough, bumbling along, before St Kilda. But then suddenly there you were, standing in the library, looking at me as though you hadn’t refused me that night and . . . I knew nothing had changed for me. I still felt the same.’

She squeezed her eyes shut.

‘My pride was wounded. Friendship was enough for you but not for me.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘I went almost out of my mind every time I saw you talking to Felton. I thought you were going to choose him and I . . . I couldn’t stand it. I’ve known him my whole life, we played together as boys, but suddenly I couldn’t stand the sight of him. I wanted him gone from here. Out! And for what?’ His voice rose suddenly, despair inflected with frustration as she stayed silent. ‘When all along, you were married to someone else!’

She splayed her hands over her face. The tears wouldn’t – couldn’t – stop falling now. Every word he said only made it worse. How could she possibly explain to him . . .?

‘. . . Why didn’t you tell me?’