Eight
‘You OK?’ Kelly asked.
We sat on the low wall at the back of the cottage and watched Kit and the police head back to the cove. Kelly smoked a thin rollup; its bitter smell mingled with the saltiness in the air.
‘I think so. It didn’t seem very real.’
She waited and I wondered if she was hoping for a description.
‘I didn’t look closely, though,’ I added.
‘Probably not from round here anyway. Talan says bodies can float for hundreds of miles in the sea.’
I didn’t want to think about it any more.
‘What are you doing here?’ I said. ‘I mean, back in Craighston?’
I remembered her saying time and time again that she would never come back. Her eyes flicked away from me and I knew she was remembering the same conversations.
‘I had no choice. No money. No work. Last of my pitiful sav
