'I thought I recognized you,' said Bill McNaught. Their black c.o.c.ker spaniel was nose to nose with Herman now, their tails nervously twitching. 'I said to Shirley, that's young David from next door. You haven't changed much, lad.' He extended his hand. 'Nice to see you again.'

'You too. I've just been up to West Drive actually,' David explained. 'I even knocked on your door, but there was no reply.'

'We always walk along the beach on Sunday mornings,' said Mr McNaught. 'Come rain or shine.'

'Come rain or shine,' agreed his wife.

'Come rain or shine,' he said again. 'Then we go home for lunch.' Now, to my horror, he was looking at me and smiling. Don't say it! Don't, don't say it! 'So I see you've found your young man then.' There was a split second while David absorbed this, then I was aware, as if in slow motion, of his head turning towards me. 'Isn't that funny, Shirley?' Bill McNaught went on happily. 'This is Miranda. The young lady who was looking for David just a few weeks ago.'

'Oh,' she said with pleasant surprise. 'h.e.l.lo there. Nice to meet you.'

'h.e.l.lo,' I replied faintly.

'So, Shirley's information obviously helped,' he went on genially. 'And it didn't take you long to track David down. I told her you were a photographer,' he explained to David, who was looking at me, dumbstruck now. 'Very glad to help her, we were. She was most anxious to find you, weren't you? But then, it's always nice to catch up with old college friends. And how's your mother, David? We heard she'd moved to Norfolk.'

'Yes,' he said weakly.

'To be near Michael and his family?'

'That's right.'

'Well, I'm so glad you two have got together again,' he said benignly. 'Friends Reunited and all that. Anyway, our lunch will be spoiling so we'll be on our way, but it's very nice to see you again. Do remember us kindly to your mother and Michael. So glad you two have caught up with each other again. Bye for now.'

I gave them a weak smile. 'Goodbye.'

We stood watching them retreat down the beach, the dog pulling on the lead, and then climb the steps. I felt David's eyes staring into me, with the intensity of a blowtorch. His mouth was slightly agape.

'What was that about?' he asked quietly. I didn't reply. 'I don't understand,' he went on. 'Who are you, Miranda?' Who am I? Good question. 'And how do you know the McNaughts? And why the h.e.l.l did you tell them we were at university together?'

I slumped onto the bench, then looked up at him. 'Because I was trying to find you, that's why. I'd wanted to find you for years and years, but I was too afraid. Then, a few weeks ago, I finally plucked up the courage. So I went to West Drive, and I asked Mr McNaught where you lived now. And he didn't know, but he said he'd ask his wife, who was away; and then he asked me how I knew you. So I told him that we'd been at university together-because I couldn't possibly tell him the real reason.'

'But what was that reason? And how did you know that I'd once lived in West Drive?' As I stared up at him his features began to bend and blur. 'Will you please tell me, Miranda? I don't understand.'

'I knew,' I croaked, 'because I'd been there before.'

He stared at me. 'You'd been to our house before?' he echoed faintly. 'But how?' I didn't reply. Suddenly, some kind of comprehension seemed to dawn. 'Did you know Michael?' he asked. 'Is that what this is all about? That you had an affair with Michael, but you didn't want to tell me?'

I shook my head. 'No. No. I've never met him.'

'Then how did you know about me?'

'Because...because...for the past sixteen years, you and I have had a terrible connection, of which you've been quite unaware, but I'm now going to tell you what it is.'

And so, at long last, I did.

When I finished, David was too stunned to speak. His face was as drained of colour as the chalk pebbles beneath our feet.

'It was me,' I said, sobbing quietly now. 'It was me. I did it. But I didn't know what it was. I genuinely believed it was a video-because that's what Jimmy had said. But it wasn't-it was a letter-bomb-and you opened it, and you got hurt, and I'm very, very sorry.'

'I...' Words still eluded him; his face was suffused with pain.

'But I just want you to know that however much you've suffered, I've suffered too. I've suffered for sixteen years because it's never, ever left me. I've been carrying it around like some b.l.o.o.d.y great boulder! It's weighed me down. It's crushed me.'

'But you should have told someone.'

'I know. But I was terrified that if I did, I'd go to jail. That's what Jimmy said. And I was sixteen, and I was so much under his thumb, and I was so afraid-so I kept quiet. But then, a few weeks ago, by chance, I met him again-and that was what finally broke the moral paralysis which had crippled me for so long.'

As David gazed, speechlessly, at me, I felt as though I'd been transformed into some hideous monster-a gorgon and a harpy all rolled into one.

'So it was you?' he whispered. He shook his head in stupefaction-and denial. 'You?' he repeated. I nodded. 'You're responsible for what happened that day?'

Responsible?

'Indirectly,' I wept. 'Yes. I am. And I was so...horrified when I found out. I overheard these women talking about it at the bus stop. That was the first I knew. So I ran to Jimmy's flat and confronted him, but he told me I'd go to Holloway if I ever said a thing to anyone. And I believed him. So I kept quiet.'

'You've kept quiet all these years?'

'Yes. Out of cowardice and fear. But then, six weeks ago, I decided to be brave at last, and to find you-if I could-and to tell you the truth. But it's been so hard, David.' I felt a hot tear snake down my cheek and seep into the corner of my mouth with a salty tang.

'Because you were still afraid?'

'Yes. But, more importantly, because of what I felt for you. It made it so much worse than it already was. And every time I tried to tell you, the words just died on my lips.'

David was no longer looking at me. He was staring out to sea, blinking slowly, as what I'd just told him began to impact. 'So it wasn't a game,' I heard him say softly.

'No.'

'You really did have a dreadful confession to make.'

I nodded. 'I tried to tell you so many times. But my courage kept failing, and then you began to make a joke of it, which made it even harder.'

He remained silent, then turned and looked at me, with an expression of ineffable sadness.

'I don't know who you are,' he said quietly. 'I thought I did. But I don't. I don't know you at all-I feel you're a stranger to me now.' My heart sank. 'The lies you've told,' he went on. 'The way you lied to the McNaughts about how you knew me. The way you contrived to meet me six weeks ago. But Lily gave it away, didn't she? Last weekend. That must have been a sticky moment for you, when she turned up at the zoo. She let slip that it was your idea for me to take your photo, not hers.' I nodded. 'You said it was because you'd admired that photo of mine in the Guardian. But that wasn't true, was it?'

'Well, it was true,' I protested. 'I do admire your photography. But no, the reason why I asked her to commission you was because I'd discovered from Bill McNaught that you'd become a photographer. So I looked you up through the Photographers' a.s.sociation and tried to work out a way to meet you; then Lily presented me with an opportunity to do so.'

He shook his head again. 'Christ-I feel as though I've been stalked! I feel as though I've been, almost, yes...hunted. Hunted down.' I felt sick. 'No wonder you were so weird when we first met,' he went on. 'I understand it now. It was because of what you'd done. That's why you asked me all those strange questions about where I'd grown up and where my father had worked.'

'I didn't realize it would be you. Because of your accent, I'd a.s.sumed you weren't the David White I was looking for. Then you turned up and I knew at once that you were.'

'Because of my scars.'

'Yes,' I replied miserably. I glanced at his hands, placed firmly on his knees now, as though he was bracing himself against the hurt. 'And I was just so...shocked. But I was also behaving strangely because I realized, even then, in those first few minutes, that I was very attracted to you. I was in turmoil.'

'And that's why you invited me to stay for a drink?'

'That's right. Because I wanted to tell you there and then. But I didn't know how to start such a terrible conversation. So I decided that I'd call you in a short while and make some excuse to meet you again. But then, to my amazement, you phoned me. And we went out to dinner.'

'We went out to dinner,' he echoed and, to my shock, I saw tears standing in his eyes. 'We went out to dinner, and we had such a nice evening.'

'Yes,' I said, my throat aching. 'We did.'

'But I didn't know who you were...' he croaked. I saw his mouth quiver.

'No, you didn't. I intended to tell you that night, but it was impossible in the restaurant, and then I tried to tell you in the dark room, but I just...couldn't. I wanted to, but at the same time I didn't want to, because I liked you so much. My courage failed me. Again.'

'It's funny,' he murmured, swallowing now. 'I was so struck by your concern at what had happened to me. I found your compa.s.sion really touching. It was as though it really affected you personally. And now I know that it did-but not for the reasons I thought. How ironic,' he added bitterly. 'I found your tender-heartedness very endearing. But actually, it was just guilt.'

'Yes. It was guilt. It was awful-it has been awful-seeing what happened to you, knowing the part I'd played in it.'

'Ah,' he said, nodding. 'Now I understand your questions about my att.i.tude towards the person who'd done it. How strange,' he added, bleakly. 'I told you I'd like to meet that person. That I'd like to be face to face with them.' He turned towards me. 'But I've been face to face with them all along.' He looked at the horizon again. 'And you wanted to know whether I could ever forgive that person. Because, I now understand, you had a personal interest in knowing the answer to that.'

'Yes, it's true-I did. I wanted to hear you say that you could forgive me, because I already knew I was in love with you.'

'Did you know that, Miranda?'

'Yes.'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure.'

'But I don't think it's true.'

'It is!'

'No. You've just confused love with guilt. That's why you've felt whatever it is you've felt for me these past few weeks. You were compensating for the harm you'd once done me. But I'm pretty sure it's not love.'

'It is love.'

'How do you know?'

'Because I do know.'

'But how?'

'Because, yesterday, when we were looking at that grave in Amberley churchyard, I suddenly realized that I'd like to be buried with you. That's how I know! You have to believe me, David.'

'No,' he sighed. 'That's where you're wrong. I don't have to believe you at all.'

'But what I'm saying is true.'

'How the h.e.l.l do I know? You're clearly an expert in deception.'

'I'm not actually.'

'Yes you are-the subterfuge you've used!'

'Only because I had to, in order to find you, and to get to know you-but actually I'm not like that at all. But yes, I know it doesn't look good, and I know I have misled you.'

'You certainly have. What a trail of lies has led you to this point, Miranda. I almost feel sorry for you. Having to keep it up. Trying to avoid exposure. How very exhausting for you... But that leads me to another thing-which is more important than anything else-and that is, how do I know that you genuinely didn't know that the video wasn't just a video?'

I felt myself go cold. 'Because it's true. I had absolutely no idea. And if I had, I would never, in a million years, have delivered it, however infatuated I'd been.'

'Perhaps you've simply convinced yourself of that.'

'No. It's the truth. The fact is that I believed what Jimmy said, because I had no reason not to. He'd never done anything violent before.'

'But you would say that,' he said. 'Wouldn't you?' I stared at him helplessly. 'But how do I actually know? It's perfectly possible that you and this... Jimmy, targeted my father, together, for your own strange reasons. But now, sixteen years on, you're anxious to present yourself to me as the innocent dupe.'

'But that's exactly what I was! That's why Jimmy asked me to deliver it. Because he was too cowardly to deliver it himself.'

David stared at me, then looked out to sea again, blinking thoughtfully. 'It was put through the door in the early hours. That suggests that you were worried about being seen.'

'Of course. Because I didn't want to be hauled before the magistrates for delivering animal rights propaganda, which is what I believed it to be. I knew it was hara.s.sment-but I felt it was justified, because of what they were doing to laboratory animals; and I'd believed Jimmy's lies about your dad.'

'So you got up early 'specially to deliver it, did you?'

'No, I ... No,' I sighed. 'I didn't. That's not how it happened. I ... I...was in love with Jimmy. I've told you that. And that night in March...that night, I'd been at his flat in East Street and for the first time we'd...'

'Oh, spare me,' he groaned.

'It was a huge thing for me,' I murmured. 'I'd never been to bed with anyone before-and I was infatuated with Jimmy to the point of obsession-and to me this proved that he loved me. So that night I stayed at his flat. But I was terrified that my mother would realize that I wasn't in my room, so I knew I'd have to get home before she was up; and she was getting up very early then because of my younger sisters, so I left Jimmy's place at about a quarter to five. And as I was leaving, he picked up this parcel on the hall table-I remember having seen it lying there for quite a while, now I think about it-and he handed it to me, then told me to put it through the door of Professor White. I asked him why he wanted me to do it, and he said that it was because West Drive was on my way home. Which was true. So I agreed.'

'But didn't you ask what it was?'

'I did. And he told me it was an anti-vivisection video about monkeys, because your dad had been involved with neurological experiments.' David groaned quietly, and shook his head. 'But I believed him. And the point about Jimmy is that he'd never ever been violent. He was the man of peace. The hero who was an animal rights campaigner, but who had publicly denounced violent action-so no one had ever thought him extreme. I had no reason to doubt him, plus I wanted to impress him, so I said I'd deliver it for him-and I did. He did say that it would give your father a "bit of a shock". But it was only the next day, when I found out the truth, that I understood what he'd meant by that.'

'You were on a bicycle, weren't you?'

'Yes.'

'So you were the slight female figure seen by the milkman?' I nodded. 'Jesus Christ,' he said quietly. 'It was you. It was you.' He ran his hand through his hair. 'Well, thank you for telling me at last. How long has it taken, Miranda? Six weeks? And now I want you to tell me something else.' My heart sank. 'Who is Jimmy?' He looked at me. 'Who is he? I'd like to know his full name, and what he does. You say you met him again recently, so you'll be able to tell me.'

'I can't,' I said miserably.

'You can.'

'Okay, yes, I can. I could. But I don't want to.'

'But I have the right to know.'

'That's true. But I also have the right not to tell you. And I'm very sorry about it, David. I wish I could tell you-but this has never been about Jimmy-it's about me. Shopping Jimmy-however awful he was-would make me feel underhand and wrong. Plus the fact that I know his wife, and it could destroy their marriage. And I'm sure he's done nothing horrible since, and isn't a threat to anyone.'

'So why did he do what he did?'

'I wish I knew! But I don't. He never explained his motive, and I only saw him once more-the following day. Then I heard not long afterwards that he'd left Brighton, and after that there was no contact at all.' We sat for a moment, listening to the sharp cries of the seagulls as they hung in the air overhead.