Kate waits a few seconds, confident that Bex is back out on the balcony, and redials Jake’s number. This time the phone rings.

‘Kate,’ Jake says.

She knows at once that something is badly wrong. ‘What is it?’ she whispers.

‘The boat. It’s burnt out.’

For a moment she thinks he’s drunk, complaining about the boat’s engine. He was always mending it, head down in the sumps, asking her to pass him a spanner. And she was always saying they needed to replace the boat with one that didn’t break down all the time, didn’t leak and didn’t constantly smell of diesel fumes. She knew he never would. He loved it too much, arguably more than he loved her.

‘What do you mean?’ she asks.

‘Someone set fire to it tonight. It’s gone, completely destroyed.’

‘Are you OK?’ she asks, trying to take in what he’s saying.

‘I was on board when they torched it, but I got off just in time. Everything’s gone. Some of your stuff too.’

She only left a few things with him, old clothes and books that she was going to collect one day, but she’s still sad. Not for their value but because a tiny part of her left them there deliberately.

‘I’m so sorry, Jake,’ she says, wiping a tear away. ‘You’re safe, though.’

‘I’m fine. Why are you whispering?’

‘I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Have you got anywhere to stay?’ she adds.

‘One of the other boats, they’re going to let me sleep the night with them. Remember Bruce and Sue?’

Of course she does. How could she forget? They lived on the water together for twelve years, got to make some great friends. People take care of each other on the canal.

‘Look after yourself,’ she whispers.

‘Is Rob there?’

She pauses before answering. ‘He’s had to go back to London.’

‘Business?’

‘Yeah.’ She doesn’t know why she’s telling him this. ‘He’s usually down for the whole weekend.’

‘It’s nice to hear your voice,’ he says.

She hangs up.

Back outside on the balcony, she sits down next to Bex, trying not to cry. They both look ahead, staring out into the inky darkness of the sea. There’s a warm wind and the lights of a few fishing boats dot the water beneath Nare Head.

‘You called him, didn’t you?’ Bex says. ‘On the landline.’

‘Yes,’ Kate says, sniffing.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to stop you. I’m not your bloody mother. I was just worried you—’

‘It’s OK,’ Kate says, swallowing hard. ‘It’s nothing like that.’

She can’t hold back the tears any longer.

‘What is it, Katie?’ Bex comes over to kneel down beside her, a hand on her shoulder.