The weather was dark with all the signs of an impending storm which reflected her mood admirably. The silence between them had spilled over from the night before and Turlough’s resolve had seemed unchanged making breakfast and quiet but stressful affair. Now alone Caoimhe watched him make his way along the beach heading for the jagged cliffs beyond. There was no bounce in his step as he mindfully placed one foot after the other. His head down and his body bent to lean into the brisk wind filled with the first signs of rain and mixed with the spray from the rolling waves, it all made as sorrowful picture. She hoped he was just heading for a walk, her own mind rejecting the alternative that flashed through her brain momentarily. They had done that walk together more than once but always in better weather. This morning there was no invitation to join him so she decided stay and make use of the time to think. She was sure Turlough would willingly hand over the book if he had been aware of it’s importance but then he would need to know the whole story. The thought made her feel very uncomfortable, she doubted he would believe her even if she took him into her confidence but, could she really ask him to return with her to her time and place while leaving him in the dark. She thought briefly about trying to probe his mind, but she hated herself for even thinking of it. In any case the authorities had tried that when he had suddenly appeared in her time zone and the only outcome was expand their knowledge of nursery rhymes. For someone from such a backward time Turlough seemed to be very advanced and adept at blocking many of interrogation techniques. Such memories forced her to wonder if it was even ethical to ask him to return but that looked an extremely unlikely possibility anyway. Unusually for her, she could not see a solution and the more she thought about it the more she became devoid of any idea of how to proceed.