13

It was a strange, animal sound, like a dog or a fox in distress, Kath thought, coming from the lawn outside the prep room window.

She was in the last quarter-hour of her shift, cleaning up after Mary, who failed to understand the need to leave the sinks spick and span for the following day. But she didn’t really mind. The ferry would be running for another two hours at least and it was a perfectly beautiful evening, promising one of those astonishing sunsets that lit up the whole sky and the sea below it. Where else could she work and witness such wonders?

There, once again, was that noise. She couldn’t bear to leave an animal in such distress. Letting herself out of the kitchen door, she followed the sound until she found herself at the very edge of the lawn. Beyond here was just the cliff and the beach below, and the great expanse of sea. Where could it be? She listened more closely. Perhaps it was not an animal – it sounded more like a human being, in anguish. She feared that someone had fallen down the cliff and hurt themselves.

But how to reach them? She’d never really explored the gardens before, but instinct took her to the right-hand side of the lawn and down some steps, along a narrow, winding path that cut through the rock across the side of the cliff. Where did all this stone come from, she wondered vaguely as she walked, in sandy Suffolk? The noise became closer until, at last, she found its source.

It was the man they called Mac, the piano player, sitting on a ledge with his head in his hands, shoulders convulsing with sobs. She was about to retrace her steps for fear of embarrassing him when, just at that moment, he looked up.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t wish to intrude.’

As he turned away again, sinking his head into his hands once more, she dithered. Could she really leave him there, on his own, in such distress? Perhaps he was unwell, or hurt? What if they found him there, cold, the following morning? She sat down on another ledge a little distance away, without saying a word, just to wait and see. After a short while he took a deep breath and then another, then wiped his face.

‘Oh, it’s you.’ His expression reminded her of a startled faun.

‘I hope you don’t mind. I heard something and just wanted to make sure you were all right.’

He sniffed and managed a weak smile. ‘I’ll probably live.’

‘Perhaps you’d prefer me to leave you?’

A short silence, and then, ‘Actually, it sort of helps to have another human being . . .’ He looked out to sea where the setting sun was starting to show off its miracles, and she followed his gaze.

‘Amazing, isn’t it? It’s been a beautiful day.’

‘Not for me, it hasn’t. It’s been a terrible day.’