Gabriel Romanescu and his new dog, Mister, spent more and more time at Marnie’s cottage with Marnie, her daughter, Lucy, and their two dogs, Luna and Tessy. Together they watched the spring come in, celebrating the lengthening of the days, the proliferation of wildflowers, the arrival of the first swallows. Marnie practised talking and it became a little easier every day. By the end of May, she and Gabriel could hold entire conversations without either of them faltering.

72

Marnie and Gabriel walked along the side of the estuary, watching the light changing in the sky and over the water, the foreshore reflecting the sky like a mirror. Hundreds of wading birds fed in the shallows; a flock of lapwings fluttered above, their wings making a sound like rain falling. The dogs stayed close.

Mister was wary of puddles, stepping carefully, lifting each huge, stubby paw in a pernickety manner like a ballet dancer. He was more confident these days. He was unconcerned by Luna – who had forgotten her ordeal – bounding about like a baby goat, spattering the silt, chasing after imaginary playmates, careering this way and that. Tessy stayed close to Marnie as always.

Marnie knew they should turn round or risk losing the light but she loved being out here, with the sea and the wind. With the dogs. With Gabriel.

They sat for a while on a tree trunk washed up on the shore and watched the birds. The glare of the setting sun was blinding. Marnie thought of all that water moving, the pull and tug of the current dragging it back out into the Atlantic; the creatures in the water drawing with it, the pebbles and shellfish turning over below; elvers and salmon and sea trout and bass.

The estuary was a purer colour than Marnie had ever known it and she could see further into Wales than she’d ever seen before. She didn’t know if it was the change in the weather, or a change in herself.

For many years, she was afraid of coming close to the estuary, particularly at daybreak or nightfall, afraid that she might see something of Alice, her spirit caught in the mist, or something more substantial: a dead girl rising from the shallows. She was no longer afraid. She would have regretted those years of secrets and silence if it wasn’t for Gabriel telling her that regret was a useless emotion.

Even so… All those years of being afraid for entirely the wrong reasons. She wasn’t going to waste another minute of her life.

Mister came to Gabriel with a rope of seaweed in his mouth. He dropped it at Gabriel’s feet and stood in front of him, stumpy tail wagging, staring hopefully at the weed.

‘Thank you,’ said Gabriel.