‘My sister’s death took her very hard.’ She leaned over and adjusted the fire then changed the subject before I could press further. ‘As to Mary. She is a girl who wants to laugh again, a girl who loves to walk on the beaches and see the seals and the gulls.’ Her eyes wandered as if recalling her at an earlier time. ‘Don’t be fooled, however.’ She leaned forward. ‘She does not talk but she is very clever. Very clever indeed.’ And although she spoke with pride, her face shrank back on it.

There was a pause in the air as if the atmosphere had stretched a little around me.

Miss Gillies’ eyes fixed on the window. I followed her gaze and there, through the panes, stood Mary herself, hair bleached in the watery light, gazing back in at me with a strange and shuttered expression.

‘And there she is,’ Miss Gillies said and summoned her with a gesture that sent the bracelets at her wrists jangling. Now the moment had actually arrived, a film of sweat lay in my palm.

3

There was a polite knock and finally, Mary was before me – as like her image as a person could be and yet with all the qualities and deficits that real life endows. She was of slight build, with an oval face, fair colouring and regular features. If it were not for the wan, closed expression she wore, I would have called her pretty. At first sight, her dress seemed pristine, but then I noticed a mark on the lap as if she had recently spilt something and her braids were already fighting to be loosed from their bows.

When she stepped up and put out her hand in a polite how-do-you-do, I was struck with the emptiness of her regard. In front of her, she clutched a dirty doll.

‘And that is Bobbity,’ said Miss Gillies with a note of distaste and Mary’s fingers gripped the toy harder.

Kneeling, I said hello to Bobbity and then addressed Mary herself. ‘I hope you and I will have lots of fun. I am relying on you to show me the island and the house.’

Mary said nothing. There was no change to her stiff features. If anything, I sensed a further withdrawal.

‘There, see,’ Miss Gillies said. ‘I feel already you shall be the very best of friends.’ But a quick pull of her lips made me suspect that she did not believe it. ‘Take a walk on the sands today and get to know each other. Perhaps, just this once, I will allow Mary a few sweets.’

I looked out of the window to where the veiled sun now sat behind a swathe of copper-edged cloud. I was keen to see Skelthsea and its celebrated beauty in full daylight.

‘Shall we walk to the shop in the village, Mary? Your aunt says you may have some sweets. Do you like sweets?’