When they are done, Jim rubs his hands together and calls for a cup of tea. They walk back to the house, taking the steps up to the rear path, but before they reach the door, Jim spots Muriel digging potatoes from the vegetable patch before them. Clapping Jack on the back, he tells him to go on in, while he has a quick word with his housekeeper.

Jack feels like an intruder as he lets himself into the kitchen, despite the fact he has been given licence to do so. The room remains dim. The late-morning sun strikes the front of the house rather than the back, and the small window above the sink does not permit sufficient light to brighten the large low-ceilinged room, so the corners play host to shadows.

He leaves the door ajar for Jim and hovers just inside, glancing around him, the ticking of the wall clock the only sound. He rubs his chin, wondering at the unexpected turn of events, and wondering further whether this deviation from his plan is prudent. His intention had been to become a nondescript labourer in some large town – anonymous, insignificant. He is aware he will stand out here, on a farm on the outskirts of a village where gossip is sure to be abundant.

And yet, he has no desire to move on, even though he knows it would be wiser – safer – to do so. Something dormant had stirred deep inside him as he exchanged his first words with Gwen, and a peculiar peace had soothed his troubled soul as he traversed the land with Jim. He struggles to understand it, and certainly cannot explain it, this deep-seated knowledge that somehow the axis of his world has changed and his forward course has forever been altered. He has never believed in fate and yet now, standing in this kitchen, his eyes straining against the wan light, he feels he has stepped onto an inevitable path, one he could not have avoided even if he had tried. It is as if the terrible events of the past twenty-four hours have led him here – though for what purpose, he cannot even begin to fathom.

A noise from beyond the kitchen catches his attention and his thoughts spring to Gwen. He takes a careful step forward over the flagstone floor. The door to the hall hangs open and he hears again a rustle of movement, followed by the creak of a chair and a soft sigh. His heart stutters as he steps up into the hall, aware the sounds come from the room to his immediate right.