Back on the island Arthur was making the final adjustments to the video camera. Having only a limited supply of charged batteries he did his best to align the shot of the cove before switching it on. Using the small spirit level incorporated into the top of the tripod he adjusted each of the long telescopic aluminium legs until he was satisfied that the equipment was on an even keel. Flicking a switch on the side of the compact camcorder he looked through the viewfinder to fix the shape and composition of the frame.
It had been a good decision to return to the cove. The rocky shoreline, culminating in the towering outcrops from which the cormorants launched their sorties, gave plenty of contrast and interest. Pleased with himself Arthur switched off and busily photographed the emplacement and its outlook.
Walking steadily along the narrow coastal road it was not long before the three companions passed the first scattered dwellings that were the outhouses of the seaside village. The road climbed and fell with the contours of the hills and valleys that formed the setting for that timeless settlement. As they came to the final bend before the road glided smoothly down into the centre they could see down into the heart of narrow streets and timber framed buildings.
Half way down this last incline a gravelled drive left the road on the seaward side. A large house of brick and pebbledash rose out of a ring of dark green ornamental conifers into which the drive curved round, out of sight. This was part of a later phase of the village development. A country residence with a garden reminiscent of those found in the more affluent leafy suburbs of a large city.
Tracy quickened her pace, turning her head away from the house as they passed in front of the gateway.
"Your house?" Reuben inquired.
She nodded grimly. Fear and anger mingled freely in her expression as she led them briskly on past the entrance to the drive. He found himself wondering what could lie behind that circle of evergreens that could so change her mood.
Phil was also concerned and gave Reuben a puzzled glance.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked her tentatively.
Tracy shook her head. "Not yet... Maybe later... I don't know." She appeared confused and agitated.
"Hey. No worries." Phil smiled. "We're here if you want us."
"Thanks"
Reaching the village Tracy had regained her composure. Phil filled the gallon can at the small garage and stocked up with chocolate, nuts and crisps. Finding the post box, a George the Fifth original, Reuben posted cards to family and the inimitable Mrs Trimble, thanking her for the provisions, before they turned to make the return journey.
Arthur checked his equipment one last time before making his way back towards the campsite. The fire had long since gone out and he poked about in the ashes. He found several lumps of charcoal which he placed neatly on a flat stone before gathering together the dry twigs and driftwood to prepare for the evening. He lit the small camping gas stove to make a cup of tea and as he did so he noticed that the water container was now close to empty. In a little while he knew it would need refilling at the well, but for now the kettle had enough for his needs so he settled down for his tea break.
Fetching a sketchbook from his tent he started to sketch the area of the camp using the charcoal. Soon the white paper was patterned with bold dark lines and skilful smudges. A monochromatic mixture of marks merged to capture the character and mood of their temporary home.
Engrossed in the task at hand he did not realise that he was not alone on the island. A little way up the hill a pair of high powered binoculars were returned to their case as their owner cursed silently under his breath and walked away in the direction of the cottage.
Launching the sleek wooden craft from the boathouse had been easy, although by now the tide was considerably further down the concrete slipway. Once it was in the water Phil helped Tracy return the trailer to the boathouse and lock up. The petrol tank was full and still there was a little fuel left over in the can that they taken in turns to carry back from the village. Reuben could have sworn that it had gained weight with every step of the way.
The light was fading as they retraced their route along the coast before turning out to sea in the direction of the island. There was a chill to the air and the breeze had strengthened still further so that the little boat cut through the small waves sending occasional bursts of white sea spray over the heads of her crew.
"The tide's too low to stop at the cove." Phil observed. "We'll have to go round to the beach."
As they approached the island Tracy turned the bow to go round to the other side. They couldn't see Arthur but Phil pointed out the niche in the rocks where the video camera still stood on its three-legged perch keeping a watchful eye on the scene. They waved at it as they passed the cove. The sun was beginning to paint the sky with gold and orange which bathed the rocks, turning them into copper and bronze. The lengthening shadows transformed the irregular surfaces of the eastern cliffs into deep and sinister chasms of black as they passed into the false night where the island had blocked the sun from view.
"You wouldn't think it was the same place. " Reuben shivered. "You can see why we couldn't get round this way yesterday."
The boat rounded the cliffs and once more passed into the rays of the setting sun. There was a wide stretch of sand between the sea and the vegetation and Tracy nuzzled the boat into shore, lifting the outboard to prevent it from being damaged. They hauled the boat up the sandy slope to its resting place near the 'tunnel'.
As they walked up the path towards the house Reuben felt uneasy. They could hardly see the ground in front of them and several times he stumbled. They emerged from the gloom of the walled garden and Tracy stepped forward to unlock the door.
"Someone’s been in here!" She exclaimed. The catch on the door had been broken. The wood surrounding the lock was splintered, as if it had been hit by a sledge hammer.