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She was getting a little out of practice at optimism. She concentrated. “I think there
was
someone like that,” she said slowly. “Two men went out with Ray on the boat one day.”
    â€œWhat for? Fishing, or what?”
    â€œHe didn’t say. They were out a fair while—all afternoon. They didn’t look like fisherman or scuba divers. They wore suits.”
    â€œWhen was this, Jess?”
    I’d finished my wine; she had forgotten her drink in the effort of remembering life. She stared past me, past the stunted beer-garden trees, straight out and up the channel.
    â€œHard to fix on it … Ray was …” she snapped her fingers; the sound was like a gunshot—all that water-skiing. “Got it! It was a week before I competed in the state titles. I hadn’t seen Ray for a few days. I did lousy. That makes it the first week of September.”
    â€œWould there be a record of the boat hire for that afternoon?”
    â€œShould be. A whole afternoon’d be pricey. Should be a receipt and everything. You think it’s important?”
    I nodded. “Could be.”
    â€œLet’s go and see. I have to get back anyhow.” She abandoned the drink and we went quickly back to the marina. The office was freshly painted, with new glass in the big windows; all the equipment—phones, desks, filing cabinets—were those of a prosperous business. Jess nodded hello to a woman who was talking on one of the phones, smoking, making notes, and drinking coffee. I wondered what she was doing with her feet. Jess ran out a long file-drawer, riffled through the contents and pulled out a spring-backed folder marked
Satisfaction.
    â€œWe’re computerising soon,” Jess said.
    â€œEveryone is,” I said. “Except me.”
    She carried the folder across to a desk and started going through it, muttering, “September, September.”
    â€œHere it is!” She snapped the folder open impatiently and spread the loose sheets. There was one for each day—morning, afternoon, and all-day hirings were noted along with fuel costs, equipment hire, and the name of the hirer. In the first week of September, the
Satisfaction
had had a scattering of morning and evening hirings, with one all-day job. There was no record of an afternoon session of the kindJess had described. She looked at the spread sheets and then she thumped them with her fist.
    â€œThat’s bloody strange.”
    â€œDescribe the men,” I said.
    â€œI can’t. Suits. Ordinary.”
    â€œBig or small, young or old?”
    â€œOne of each: one big, one small.”
    â€œFair or dark?”
    She shook her head. “Uh huh, don’t remember.”
    â€œAnything else?”
    She frowned and looked again out over the water.
    â€œShit, I don’t know. Nothing. No! I remember now, one of them had a sort of shine to his suit. Yech! And he wore white shoes. Does that help?”
    The busy woman at the other desk hung up her phone noisily. We both looked at her.
    â€œI don’t mean to stickybeak, Jess, but …”
    â€œDon’t worry, Val. What?”
    I was amazed that she could stickybeak as well as doing all those other things. I wished I could get a look at her feet.
    â€œCouldn’t help hearing,” Val said. “I saw that man in the awful-looking shiny suit. He had those terrible shoes on, too.”
    â€œYou saw him when?” I said.
    â€œJust last week. Right here. He came in here, and asked for Ray.”
    â€œWhat did you say?" Jess asked.
    Val stubbed out her cigarette and got ready to get another going. “I told him I didn’t know where Ray was. I said I wished I did know. It was
lovely
having him around here. Oh, sorry, Jess …”
    Jess was looking upset again, frowning and shuffling the
Satisfaction
sheets. I took them from her and made a neat stack of them. Compulsive. She pulled herself together.
    â€œDid you