Thomas was moving closer. ‘Face’s body, they still haven’t found it.’
‘But I saw it there in the mud.’
‘The islanders must have moved it before the uniforms arrived.’
‘So Face is still officially missing?’
‘Yes, the case remains open.’
She didn’t ask about Caris and Tudor, she’d checked in with him every week. His girl was still in a secure clinic in London, not talking. Tudor visited every other day, but months had passed without her breaking her silence. Thomas pushed the window wider and the salty spring breeze passed over their faces.
Catrin felt Thomas touch her hand under the table as she looked out. The boat she’d heard earlier had crossed to the far edge of the horizon, almost out of sight now.
When she stood, Thomas made as if to follow but she gestured him back and walked out onto the beach on her own. She didn’t look at the boat. She closed her eyes. She felt very alone. Maybe that’s how it would always be now. If there was a way to carry on, she would have to leave Rhys behind.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to Geoff Mulligan, Alison Hennessey and Briony Everroad for their painstaking editing and proof reading; Patrick Walsh for keeping it all on track, Jake and the rest of the team and John Williams for his invaluable advice.
My hat off to KJ for her input on Pembrokeshire, the band and much else; to Paul Powell for his advice, Richard T for those discussions way back; Maruja K for Spain; HTR and Valerie Demat for their unknowing but significant support, and the Valley Commandos for their unique friendship, companionship, and protection.