The sky was lightening shade by gray shade as Lucy went upstairs, the storm slowly passing away to the east. The noise of the rain was fading too and other sounds coming back in; the drip of water from the gutters onto the stone of the yard, the faintest cheep of birds in the hedge, the distant sound of a car on the road splashing through the puddles. Lucy noticed that the atmosphere, previously as tight as a violin string, had eased.

Peering in the mirror in her bedroom she was horrified by what she saw—eyes puffy with crying, cheeks bright red, her hair a rat’s nest and her clothes soaked. No wonder Finn had backed away. Whatever had possessed her to kiss him? For a musician, she had an appalling sense of timing.

She stripped off her shorts and top, toweled herself down and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Pulling a comb through her hair she checked her reflection again, shuddered, and grabbed her favorite stripy jumper. That was the best she could do.

As she went downstairs, she could hear Finn moving around making the coffee, and she could smell the rich scent of it. Warm now, she felt her tension easing slightly. Explaining would be a challenge, though.

Finn had shed the sou’wester and his boots, and was looking formidably practical and businesslike in a jumper and dark trousers. When he saw her he smiled again and she felt another tumble of lust. She made an effort to drown it in the coffee he handed her, which tasted really good and strong.

“How are you doing?” Finn asked.

“I’m good, thanks,” Lucy said. “I’m sorry—that must all have seemed a little weird.”

“You think?” Finn cocked a brow. “I am starting to expect the unexpected around you.”

Lucy sat down on the sofa and tucked her feet under her. “Yeah, it seems to come with this place.” She shook her head. “I was a bit on edge because of the storm, and then I turned on the TV and realized there was a concert on and I should have switched it off, but somehow I couldn’t...” She stopped, feeling an echo of the previous, fierce emotion.

“Tough for you to listen to?” Finn had come to sit beside her. “I’m sorry.”

“I think I needed to cry, to be honest,” Lucy said. “I’ve been feeling a bit better these last few days, but I was aware that I’d never really mourned the loss of my career properly. I’ve bottled things up. Then this evening when I heard the music, all the grief seemed to flood out. It was so intense, wrapped up with everything that’s been going on here and my visions of Catherine...” She rubbed her eyes. “It was kind of you to come down to check up on me,” she added, “and thank you for saving Guido.”

“Who?” Finn said. His expression cleared. “Oh, you mean the violin? He has a name?” he laughed. “Of course he does.”