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Had he been capable of noticing his surroundings, the condition of the flora along the coast might have given him a broad hint as to the time of year. He‘d awakened where he‘d fallen on the previous night, with absolutely no knowledge where he was aside from somewhere along the South-West Coast Path. At this time of year, the only action he usually saw was from a surfer anxious to blast into the water of Widemouth Bay: Too much speed into the car park, too late to brake, and over the edge onto the sand he‘d go. He felt it himself when the waves were good and the only thing keeping him from his wet suit and his board were the uniform he wore and the thought of being able to wear it—right here in Casvelyn—into his dotage. They did not refer to a posting in Casvelyn as the velvet coffin for nothing. I don‘t know where it is or something you know as well as I do.‖Lynley shook his head, but it seemed to Bea Hannaford that this movement wasn‘t one of refusal so much as one that acknowledged a regretful understanding and acceptance of a single immutable fact: She had him by the short and curlies. So I‘m wondering if the sling was cut or if they‘ve dug up something else at forensics.‖ Bea thought about whether to answer the question and what it would signal to him if she did so. ‖ ―Suicide played out to look like an accident to spare the family additional pain.‖ ―What do we know so far that could possibly lead you there? I don‘t think so and neither do you.‖ Bea shoved her car key into the ignition and thought about what these remarks suggested, not so much about the victim but about Thomas Lynley himself. He couldn‘t sort out why they had him painting radiators anyway. Who noticed whether radiators were painted when they were in a hotel? And anyway, it wasn‘t like the decrepit Promontory King George Hotel was being taken back to its former glory, was it? That‘s what the cop told us.‖ Cadan widened his eyes. He was fully garbed, as he would be at this time of year, for the water was still quite cold. Jesus, Kerra, she kept thinking he was just going through a she thought that. People do all sorts of mad things when they‘re in love with someone.‖ ―Yeah? Indeed, his breeding generally made that sort of remark second nature to him. What she had to show him was in Casvelyn, and he obediently trailed her there. Kept short enough, it was low maintenance: A good shaking sorted it out in the morning. She wore black once again but now it was relieved at her throat by a billowy red scarf that exactly matched the red of her shoes. ―You didn‘t ask him not to swear in front of me.‖ She had a throaty voice, like a blues singer. While Ben Kerne knew this, he still experienced a moment of ludicrous hope that a terrible mistake had somehow occurred, that despite the car later found by the police and the identification within the car, the dead boy at the bottom of the cliff in Polcare Cove was someone other than Alexander Kerne.
He‘d started out when the only sign of life renewed was the promise of yellow buds on the gorse that grew sporadically along the cliff tops, but by April, the gorse was wild with color, and yellow archangel climbed in tight whorls along upright stems in hedgerows on the rare occasions when he wandered into a village. He‘d climbed out of his sleeping bag, donned his jacket and his boots, drunk the rest of his water, and begun to move. With siren and lights, it still took him nearly twenty minutes to reach Polcare Cottage, which was the only habitation along the road down to the cove. And I owe her money for the clothing.‖ ―Don‘t be obtuse. If he did a runner, she‘d fetch him back and he knew it. She knew little enough about the man, but she also knew when a leap of faith was needed simply for what a leap of faith meant. ‖ ―Microscopic examination helped push the decision—if you will—over the edge.‖ ―So not terribly obvious, at least to the naked eye. She gave him a wary look and wondered if she‘d been wrong in her assessment of him. No one except perhaps a hotel inspector and what did it amount to if a hotel inspector noticed a bit of rust in the ironwork? It was merely being made habitable for the hordes interested in a holiday package on the sea that consisted of fun, frolic, food, and some kind of instruction in an outdoor activity. She gave a weird little cough and he saw the glitter of tears in her eyes. But it doesn‘t mean she‘d finally get to the point of understanding how things really were and deciding the only reasonable thing to do was to kill him. But under the present circumstances, he merely told her that his usual mode of transportation had been totaled in February and he hadn‘t yet replaced it with something else, so the Ford was fine. He drove trying to keep his mind on that—simply on the driving—but he found the strength draining out of him with the sheer effort he made to hold his thoughts in check. One did not watch a beloved wife die—the victim of an utterly senseless street killing—and walk away from that to think that tomorrow was simply another day. So far he‘d endured the endless succession of tomorrows he‘d been living through by doing what was set in front of him and nothing more. But she‘d grown it because Santo Kerne had liked it longer. Oh, I expect there may be a few more weeks of tearful phone calls, but he‘ll do his pained-silence thing, and after a time, she‘ll get sick of that and realise she‘s thrown away three years of her life, or however long it‘s been because I can‘t remember and as the clock is ticking, she‘ll move on. Those shoes reminded Cadan, ridiculously, of a description he‘d heard once of the story of two old birds fighting over a pair of red shoes. All fancy of this died, however, when he gazed at Santo‘s face. He‘d taken the decision that there was no point to exposing Dellen to Santo‘s autopsied body, especially when he himself had no idea what condition the corpse would be in. That Dellen might have to anything that had reduced him to death was unthinkable.
It continued to be occupied by Neolithic and then Bronze Age peoples, and later (in the Iron Age) by Brythons with distinctive cultural relations to neighbouring Wales and Brittany.
There is little evidence that Roman rule was effective west of Exeter and few Roman remains have been found.
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Tropical nighttime warming as a dominant driver of variability in the terrestrial carbon sink. If he did not, his ending was in the hands of the gods. He could not think that there might be a single Supreme Being out there, pressing fingers into the keyboard of a divine computer, inserting this or forever deleting that. For what it‘s worth, though, you‘ll be wasting your time.‖ ―What makes you think I want to grill her? I expect it‘s something your girlfriend appreciates. Not that Madlyn would have reported Cadan to Lew had she caught him in the act of going through cupboards—despite her general weirdness, Cadan‘s sister had never been known to sneak—but she would have realised what he was doing and she would have ragged on him about it. As it was, he‘d had enough trouble merely responding to what she had to say when the subject wasn‘t him at all. ―Jennie‘s all right.‖ He hoped that would put an end to the matter, leaving him to his headache and general queasiness in peace. He‘d told himself that the fact that he was doing his drinking at home was admirable when one considered he could be out at a pub or sitting on a street corner or—worse—driving round in a car while pouring gin down his throat. Out with his surfboard on a day when not a wave was worthy of a ride. He was hardly fit enough to sit on the loo unassisted, let alone in the shape one considered necessary to do away with another human being. Santo‘s equipment had been messed about with, if Kerra Kerne was to be believed. Cadan hadn‘t brought one from home, so that was a bit of a problem. ‖ He hadn‘t the first clue how to reply, so he chuckled lamely. She turned on a radio that sat on the spotless white work top, and she fiddled with the knob till she had a station that she seemed to prefer. ―I think we can manage that.‖ He was vaguely aware of Pooh moving restlessly on his shoulder, claws digging a little too deeply into his flesh. Of course,‖ and when he had the paper spread and Pooh on the back of the chair, she went on to say, ―An unusual choice of pet, isn‘t he.‖ Cadan didn‘t think he was meant to answer, but he did so anyway. I do understand.‖ She cast him a look and her smile was tremulous. But they don‘t always, do they.‖ He dropped his gaze. I know that‘s not true, but I‘m not…How can one ever be ready to look squarely at the death of one‘s child? It called for bodies moving together sinuously, and no way did Cadan want to be one of them. She pressed against him at once, each movement its own form of caress. He was struggling in the wind to the top of a cliff, climbing from a V-shaped cove where he‘d rested for an hour or so and watched the waves slamming into broad fins of slate that formed the reefs in this place. He gnawed it down to nothing, realised that he was also thirsty, and stood to see if anything resembling habitation was nearby: hamlet, fishing cottage, holiday home, or farm. There was no religious meditation involved, but they were both alone in places where they should not have been alone. I can stay here with the…with him, if you prefer.‖ She didn‘t prefer. It was an anomaly in an area where nearly every other structure was white, and in further defiance of local tradition, its two outbuildings were purple and lime, respectively. He would have a look at the crazy golf course, future location of the BMX trails, future site of the BMX lessons that Cadan was certain would be requested of him once he had a chance to show his stuff to…That was the problem of the moment. But instead he said, ―Jago Reeth‘s like…I don‘t know. ‖ ―Jago phoned and said she was there.‖ ―What time? He‘d thrown himself into them to keep from throwing himself elsewhere, until half of what he‘d taken on was a muddle and the other half was a wreck. She‘d been household goddess for most of her life—thanks to the Bounder‘s final bounding shortly before Madlyn‘s fifth birthday—and the last thing she had ever wanted was another woman usurping her position of Sole Female. ‖ She didn‘t, Cadan thought, need to sound so amazed. Well, she was going to have to take it whatever way she wanted to take it. Did he come crawling back to you, begging forgiveness and declaring love? ‖ and then he‘d signed the documents placed before him and listened to what various individuals had to say about police, inquests, funeral homes, burials, and the like. Yet how could those fears be brought into the open, when everything that related to them was swept under the carpet? Today the present moment demanded an acknowledgement of the past that had brought him here. She‘d turned off the ignition and rested her hand on the door handle. 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