‘Is that because you were with a beautiful Russian spy?’ She was trying to make a joke of it but failing.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘when I first met you, you told me you were engaged to be married. Seems like I ain’t the one with all the secrets.’

‘I’m not marrying anyone,’ Verity said. She was not a little girl any more, that was clear. And she would not marry her father’s choice, whatever happened.

‘Tell me anyway, I’m interested,’ Jack said. She looked at him askance. He had the old, sly smile on his face. It was hard to know what he was thinking.

‘There’s nothing to tell,’ she said, but he continued to smirk at her. ‘All right then. My father arranged it, the boy’s a young farmer.’

‘Rather than an old one.’ Jack blew out a ring of smoke. She quite liked the tone of jealousy in his voice.

The smoke caught the pinkish twilight from the sun setting. From the bed, she could see the light bleeding out over the darkening marsh, catching the creeks in a final shimmer. The silhouettes of the pine trees swayed alarmingly at the far edge of the horizon. If she could get rid of everything apart from this – if she could suspend the moment, catch it, hold it and not ever let it go. If the light did not go out – if the thrashing sea rose and cut them off – they could stay here on an island of their own. But the sky continued to darken and the moment of terror and promise slipped away.

‘Actually, I can’t stand him, he’s a horrible snob and a crashing bore, but he’s very rich and that’s what the farm needs. I’m like a nice parcel of land, you see, something to sell. I’ve put Father off but he told me if I don’t decide what else I’m going to do, it’s a fait accompli. He’s insisting I meet him next week. Some tedious party. What do you care anyway?’ She looked sideways at him to gauge his reaction.

‘I care about anything to do with you.’ He was still regarding her with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortable. ‘If you’re not going to marry this guy, what are you going to do?’ he said after a while.