‘I’ve got the school’s tech guy on the line.’ Theresa spoke to Roger, who was pacing around, forever wringing his hands, like a domestic Lady Macbeth in some soap opera. ‘He’s been in touch with the boat. I’m going over there to my flat.’ She pointed. ‘It’s behind that parked van. The blue door. I’m going to call the French emergency services.’

As she ran back across the road, heading home, she resumed her call to Mervin.

‘OK. Call this number again if you hear anything more. I’m going home right now to call the Gendarmerie Maritime. Bye.’

Theresa had her finger resting on the red button to cut off his call when she heard his anguished cry.

‘Wait! Wait! Don’t go, Mrs S. I’m just getting another message from Neil. He says the boat has stopped now.’

‘That’s good news. Isn’t it?’ Theresa hoped that if the boat was not moving further away, they might have the chance to catch up with it.

‘Erm, it should be good news.’ Mervin’s voice had taken on a new, sinister tone. ‘Except that Neil says it stopped because they just hit some rocks . . . And there seems to be water coming in.’

Theresa squeezed past the bumper of the little parked van, noticing that her front door was ajar and her lights were still on.

She obviously had left so quickly she couldn’t have shut up properly.

She shoved the door open, simultaneously slipping the phone into her pocket so that she would feel it vibrate if Mervin should call back. She walked briskly inside, heading straight towards the kitchen counter and the landline telephone.

Quickly consulting the magnetic list of emergency services on the fridge, she picked up the receiver.

‘Theresa?’

Theresa spun round, to see a man emerging from her bedroom.

It was Cyril, and in his right hand was a large, sharp knife.

Twenty-five

TWENTY-FIVE

When Sally turned around to look for Eggy, who was no longer holding on to her, she could see him on his knees, grabbing hold of the ropes along the side. He was heaving.

She immediately slowed the boat down so that she could be heard.

‘Eggy!’ She waved her free arm at him. ‘Do NOT lean over the side. You could be thrown into the water.’

‘What can I do?’ he wailed. ‘Help me, Sally.’

She cut the engine off. The boat was now floating on the rolling sea, bucking up and down worse than when they had the thrust of engine power propelling them over the crests of the waves.

Sally looked around for a receptacle. It was usual always to keep a bucket on board small craft.

‘Here.’ Sally grabbed Eggy’s top hat, which he had jammed under the seat. ‘Use this!’

From where she sat, the shore was now nothing but a speckle of tiny lights.