SERA
“You have been here before.”
Elliot said it the moment they stepped off the train. Not as a question. He had been watching her face for the last forty minutes of the journey and whatever he saw there had already answered it.
“Once,” she said. “When I was twelve.”
He looked at the platform. At the small station with its one exit and the sound of the sea audible from where they stood. A sound she had not heard in fifteen years and recognized immediately. The particular combination of wind and water that was not like anything else.
“What do you remember,” he said.
“Everything,” she said. Simply.
They walked out.
The town was small. The kind that existed because the sea was there and people needed somewhere to put themselves when they came to look at it. They had booked a place al
