I wish I could see her face, which now covers stray from under the bonnet dark curls. We are on the beach alone - the fishermen had gone, pulling the boat on the shingle away from the water's edge. - I love you, Sophie. Tell me, what I care about you. She shrugs, and bends down to pick up something from the ground. It is a piece of bottle glass, pounding waves and the friction of the stones made it a rounded and frosted. - It may be too late, Harry. But why? Why did you offer Amelie? Her voice was trembling, and I understand how deeply it hurt.