My boots are covered in dust and grass seeds cling to my skirt. I take no notice of any of these things.

The air along the cliff is still. The noise of the surf comes clearly to me. I can feel the ground tremble beneath my feet as each roller rears against the rocks and wonder how it will be in this place when the winter storms arrive. I reach the head of the track. I do not hesitate but start straight down, feeling the heat coming up out of the ground, hands grasping at knots of coarse grass, feet slipping in the loose earth. The surface of the rock is smooth as glass. It gives no handhold. Emptiness yawns beneath my feet. I can hear the buzz of insects, feel the itch of pollen on my skin, smell the harsh dry smell of thrift and sun-hot grass. I slip and slither a yard or two, grabbing grass stems. I regain control and rest a moment, panting, eyes smarting with sweat.

As I have told no-one where I am going, there will be no-one to help me should I need help.

I come to a section even steeper than what has gone before. I lift my heavy skirt and tuck it into my waistband. My boots are not suitable for this sort of ground. There is a narrow crevice scratched between two flat rock faces. The rock is grooved vertically: no hand- or foot-holds there. I turn inwards to face the cliff, toes stretching for a roughness in the crevice that will provide some sort of hold. Through my straddled legs I see the sea surging against the gleaming rocks fifty feet below, hear the grate of shingle sucked to and fro by the tide. My boot rests on a roughness. Cautiously, I put pressure on it. It slips. It will never bear my weight. I turn my head with difficulty. On either side the rock stretches away.

How did Edward get down here? The question repeats itself again and again inside my head.

Perhaps he did not. It is the easy answer. Perhaps he slipped, as I almost slipped, and fell from this point straight into the sea. It would explain what happened. Except there were no broken bones, no lacerations as would be caused by a fall from this height. The only lesions on his skin had been caused after death, the body tumbling in the surf until it was wedged at last between the rocks.

No. He did not fall.