Our first winter was just about over by then and we were all feeling much more settled. For all our little hiccups, Ruth and I had kept up our habit of rounding off the day in my room, talking over our hot drinks, and it was during one of those sessions, when we were larking around about something, that she suddenly said: “I suppose you’ve heard what Chrissie and Rodney have been saying.” When I said I hadn’t, she did a laugh and continued: “They’re probably just having me on. Their idea of a joke. Forget I mentioned it.” But I could see she wanted me to drag it out of her, so I kept pressing until in the end she said in a lowered voice: “You remember last week, when Chrissie and Rodney were away? They’d been up to this town called Cromer, up on the north Norfolk coast.” “What were they doing there?” “Oh, I think they’ve got a friend there, someone who used to live here.
