But still she came, just in case. In case what? The thirtieth of December, every year, she had to set eyes on the Maiden Rock, her partner in this peculiar birthday. Perhaps it was akin to keeping a wild animal in her living room, opening the door on it each day to make sure it knew she was still there. To leave it only bolstered its spars and gave it more strength than it deserved. She doubted Jenny would come. At the ten-year mark, Helen had seen her from a distance, standing with the children, looking out to sea. She had thought about going over, but in the end had lost her nerve. Michelle hadn’t appeared for that one or any of them, she didn’t see the point and she wouldn’t today. She would call Helen next week with the excuse that her husband hadn’t wanted her to make the trip. As they arrived at the cemetery, the wind filled her umbrella. She could hear the Atlantic Ocean as it crashed and spumed against mussel-crusted rocks, chucking up gusts of salt.
