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thinking,’ he said.
    No you can’t.
    ‘That I’ve come to sell you fish.’
    ‘The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.’ If only he knew how grateful I was to be discussing fish.
    ‘Do you cook on that?’ He nodded his head to the stove.
    ‘I intend to but I think it’s best suited for making tea and I reckon even that will take ages.’
    ‘I can wait,’ he said, grinning.
    ‘You’ll have to wait a long time then, because I don’t have any tea, milk or fresh water.’ Surely this was signal enough for him to leave although, strangely, I didn’t completely want him to go. I was intrigued by the way his appearance contradicted his manner. He was obviously a highly educated and worldly man and yet evidently lived a simple life on the island.
    Lewis ignored me, stood up and walked over to the window. My heart pounded as he picked up the binoculars that I had left lying on the sill. It was now imperative that he leave.
    ‘Where do you live?’ I asked, desperate to drive him homeward.
    ‘Old Bridge Cottage.’ He put the binoculars to his eyes and gazed out to sea. ‘It’s the grey slate cottage on the cliff.’ He panned around the vista for a moment and then something must have caught his eye because he jerked the binoculars to the left again. ‘Good heavens,’ he said, lowering the glasses for a beat. ‘You can see it from here. Who would have guessed that my place was visible from down here on the beach?’
    ‘Heavens, indeed,’ I echoed. ‘But I wouldn’t know,’ I added. ‘I’ve not used the binoculars yet. I found them lying on the sill when I arrived yesterday.’ I felt my face turning scarlet.
    At this, Lewis turned around and stared directly at me. His pale-grey eyes, set in a face that was too experienced to be conned by the likes of me, twinkled within the confines of his weathered face.
    ‘So you haven’t been tempted to spy on your surroundings? Or your neighbours?’ He stood motionless with the binoculars poised at his chest. The only movement about him was the wry smile he was failing to suppress.
    ‘Of course not,’ I replied, adding such a large measure of shock to my voice that I sounded like a guilty child caught red-handed. ‘Besides, it was pitch-dark when I arrived so I wouldn’t have been able to see you or your wife.’
    It felt as if the ground had dropped away and I was speeding towards the earth’s centre at the speed of light, my entire body burning with shame, embarrassment and humility. One word, one word , had confirmed to Lewis that indeed, I had been spying. How else would I have known he had a wife?
    Lewis placed the binoculars back on the window sill, walked to the door and clicked his fingers. Nog obeyed and trotted to his side. He turned abruptly and narrowed his eyes as if to say, ‘I hope you enjoyed the show’.
    ‘I expect to catch dogfish or cod later. I would very much like to share whatever I land with you. I’m a superb cook. Dinner at my place, say eight o’clock?’ The harsh features softened and he offered a charming smile. He pushed his fingers through his wind-tousled hair and took hold of the dog’s lead. ‘Elizabeth would love to meet you and you can tell us all about yourself and your great-uncle. The man’s quite an enigma.’
    If I say yes, will you go away and leave me alone? I thought. My mind raced and I fiddled with my fingernails. I glanced at the binoculars that might as well have been labelled ‘I’ve been spying on you’, but then I was lost in his eyes, which told me going to dinner at his house would prove to be a warm, hospitable and thoroughly enjoyable evening. My mind was made up, regardless of the risk to my predicament.
    ‘I’d love to come!’ I almost squealed. ‘I’ve never had dogfish before.’
    ‘Excellent,’ he replied. ‘I do hope you have a torch to find your way up the path.’ And he winked, leaving me remembering how I had flashed my torch the night before.
    *   *   *
    I spent the next