EXCERPT It is April, but it feels like summer. They turn left onto the seafront, in bright sunlight. The low, slanted cliff is alongside—at vanishing point to the north what is maybe a Victorian hotel or school is expansive in the sunlight, rising above a world of trees, and smaller buildings. On their right is the sea, and the rapidly shelving beach. They are walking towards the small rocky headland where the Felixstowe seafront comes to an end, marked on the map as Cobbold Point. The ocean horizon is broken by the huge rectangle of a container ship…