The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. She also knew that he was the type who would not make a single physical overture until she pushed the correct buttons.
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