Not after Johnnie. He’d heard that phrase more times in the last weeks than he’d bothered to count, and each time it made something tighten in his chest. But where was “down there”? The caves? Piper’s Hole in particular?

He took a few more steps along the wall until he could glimpse the tops of a few dark heads hunkered between the Cornish hedge and the stone wall, in what children had been using as a “secret” lair for decades. “Afternoon, lads.”

Though they jumped at his voice, when they looked up, the three smiled at him. Two Grimsbys—only the youngest was missing—and the Hill. “Afternoon, Mr. Tremayne,” the eldest Grimsby said. Nick.

He’d tossed enough balls for all of them that he didn’t think they’d really mind his inviting himself into their conversation now. “How have you all been? After Johnnie, I mean.” He met one gaze after another, and in each he saw the same emotions, though in unique combinations: pain, anger, uncertainty.

Perry clenched his fist. “I say it wasn’t just a slippery rock, sir. No one was more sure-footed than Johnnie.”

Johnnie was Perry’s older cousin, and the lad had idolized him. Oliver tilted his head and held young Perry’s gaze. “What else could it have been?”

At the direct question, the lad sighed and shrugged. “His head was busted. It could have been someone sneaking up on him, not just him falling and hitting a rock.”

“Who would do that?” Joseph Grimbsy shook his head. “Everyone loved Johnnie. Everyone. Forget it, Perry. Please.”

“Everyone from here loved him, but it could have been someone not from here.”

Nick snorted, dismissive in that way lads always were when they had an extra year and so thought it came with extra wisdom. “Right. A pirate, like old man Gibson was telling us about. Or a smuggler. Because that’s really likely.”

Tas-gwyn again. Oliver didn’t know whether to sigh or laugh. “Has my grandfather been telling tales to you lads too?”

Perry shrugged. “I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to go down to the caves.”

“No.” Joseph punctuated the word with a fold of his arms over his chest. “I’m never stepping foot in those caves again.”

“Me neither.” And his older brother didn’t seem the least bit ashamed of his decision. “No one is, as we’ve been telling you all month. If you want to go, you’ll have to go alone. No one else has since they brought Johnnie out, and no one will.”

“No one has? Or none of you?” Oliver feared for a moment that he’d sounded far too interested and would scare them back to the cricket game.