The morning after the Moses Walk she takes him up to the high cliffs at the North End, carefully clambering over the rocks at the side, across the steep narrow ledge and down the slope to show him the blowhole. It is nothing but a wide crevice, but at regular intervals it breathes sprays of seawater high into the air.
‘Wow! I can’t believe I’ve never seen this before. It’s like one of those geysers in Iceland,’ says Kit.
‘You should see it when the tide’s up,’ says Hannah.
‘This is why I love this place,’ he says, hugging her to him as they brace their backs against the granite cliff face, which isn’t exactly comfortable, but the wet rocks around the blowhole are lethal. ‘This view is … everything. I need to grab Richard Pearce for some tips on brush technique. My paintings don’t do any of this justice.’
She replies, ‘I see why people love it.’
‘It’s beautiful. How can you not fall in love with it?’ 120
‘It makes me angry.’
‘Angry?’ He’s surprised.
‘How many people can afford to see this? My mum has only been over once. She said she could have a whole summer back in Poland for what it cost her for two weeks here.’
‘But if too many people came it might spoil it,’ he reasons.
‘And when I look at this, I hate us as a species, pumping our shit and chemicals and rubbish into the sea. We should be taking care of it.’ She scrapes her hair out of her eyes. ‘Ignore me. I don’t want to ruin the day.’ She smiles up at him and kisses him. ‘Sometimes I don’t know what I think until I open my mouth.’ She laughs at herself. ‘Sometimes it surprises me, what I think, what I say.’
They hold hands as they start to walk back down. Bees and flowers and a gentle breeze. Bliss.
He pauses on the way back to look out at the waves flinging themselves against the land. The day is mild, but the water is not.
‘Thanatos,’ he pronounces.
‘Who?’
‘That desire to throw yourself over – to take that step into oblivion. The death wish, you know?’
‘No, I don’t know,’ she laughs.
‘You’ve never felt that?’
‘Never! No! You want your head looking at!’
More quietly he says, ‘I think about it sometimes.’
‘Don’t,’ she snaps. ‘It’s a waste of energy. If it came to it, you’d fight.’
‘I might not.’
‘You would. I once found an injured gull down by Ruin Beach. 121One wing completely smashed up. It would probably have been kinder to finish it off, but I couldn’t do it. The look in its eyes – it demanded to live. I brought it back to the house and we kept it in the yard and fed it. I felt sorry for it watching the others fly, but it was life of a kind. It died in its own time.’ She turns away quickly, as if she’s revealed too much.
They make their way down to the Old Ship for a drink.
‘Do you know who’s over on St Mary’s?’ she asks. ‘The actress from that TV show about chess that you liked.’
‘Anya Taylor-Joy? Is she? Wow!’
‘You should get over there and have a go.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ He assumes she’s joking.
‘I would. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’d go for it.’
‘You wouldn’t—’
‘Of course I would! Channing Tatum! If he was over there I’d be on the next boat across. I’d have a bash at all the Hemsworths! At the same time!’ She laughs that filthy laugh and Kit feels a chill, as if a cloud has covered the sun, but when he looks round, it’s still there, all smiley-faced and bright.