“There’s still hope,” said Annie, taking a seat next to Sally. “People can bob around for ages waiting to be rescued. They might have got pulled farther around the bay, past the crag.”

“Absolutely,” said Sally. Though Annie felt she was humoring her more than speaking with conviction.

“John’s a strong swimmer,” said Maeve.

“And Alfred’s a stubborn old bugger!” said Annie. “With that power combination they’re bound to be okay.” Annie had forgotten how wet she was until she saw Maeve shivering uncontrollably. She looked down at her hands and saw that she too was shaking as she tried to pick up her cup.

“I think it would be a good idea for you all to get out of those wet clothes, if possible,” said Georgina. “Have you got any spare jumpers? Or extra blankets, Annie?”

Annie nodded. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll get some.”

“I can go if you like,” said Georgina.

“No, it’s fine. Thank you. I’d rather be busy.” Annie pulled off her water-filled wellingtons and her sopping socks, her feet blue with cold and her toes wrinkled, and headed barefoot up to the flat.

In the quiet of the flat, she took a few moments to compose herself before she pulled open the door to the airing cupboard and began to fill her arms with quilts and heavy blankets. She pulled off her wet clothes, threw them into the corner, and redressed in a baggy jumper, jeans, and warm knitted socks. In her chest of drawers, she found a couple of jumpers that would probably fit Gemma and Sally, and hanging in the wardrobe was an old cable-knit cardigan that had belonged to her mother, which she pulled out for Maeve; she grabbed a couple of pairs of sweatpants too, just in case.

Before leaving the flat, Annie scanned the dark horizon through the sitting room window, but the view was the same as she had left it. She left the light on, just in case John and Alfred had lost their bearings and needed a beacon to draw them home.

She came back into the café to subdued but amiable conversation and quickly pulled on her discarded ankle boots from earlier.

Wet clothes were draped over chairs and replaced with ill-fitting hand-me-downs and warm blankets. Annie was just bringing a large bell jar filled with tomorrow’s cookies to the table when the lights went out. Gemma squeaked.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now?” Annie groaned into the darkness.

At the sound of a match striking, Sally’s face glowed yellow in the darkness as she lit the candles left on the table from book club.

“Power cut?” asked Maeve.

“I don’t know,” said Annie. “It could just be something’s tripped the fuses. I’ll go and check.”