‘I did. Many times over the summer I told you something wasn’t right, that we knew nothing about Iona, and you brushed me away like you always do. Making me think my concerns are nothing to worry about, only this time they were.’

David sighed, looking away. This time she had been right to worry. He crouched in front of her. ‘But what do you think is going to happen now, Maria? You’ve run to Annie and she’s already spoken to me. She’ll tell Bob, too.’

‘He doesn’t know.’ Maria shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes, and he wanted to touch her but he couldn’t. Fear bled through him. Everything was about to come crashing down.

‘If I could go back and redo it,’ he cried, pushing himself back to his feet and holding his head in his hands.

‘No.’ Maria shot out of her chair. ‘Don’t say that. Don’t you ever talk like that, David.’

‘We should never—’ He broke off. He had never truly admitted how, for their entire lives on the island, he’d felt like he was running on a thin rope. That any moment they could all slip and everything they’d built would collapse around them.

He had never told his wife that every day he prayed to God for forgiveness and begged him not to take it all away from them because they didn’t deserve that. Surely.

In many ways David admired his wife’s strength, because despite her worries he doubted she was crumbling inside like he was.

‘There’s only one thing we can do,’ he said. ‘Make sure Iona gets off this island. She needs to leave before Bob gets to her. She’s down by the quay. At least she was when I left her.’

What David omitted to tell Maria was the depth of the conversation he’d had with Iona. Perhaps he should have been honest and revealed his admission, but he didn’t want her turning everything on him right now.

He scraped a hand through his hair, drawing her eyes to the top of his head.

‘Where’s your cap?’ Maria asked.

‘What?’ he said distractedly. ‘I left it behind. Graham picked it up. Maria, have you been listening to a word I’ve just said?’

Maria nodded. ‘You want me to talk to her?’

‘Yes,’ he cried. ‘Now. Sort this out, Maria.’

PRESENT

Chapter Thirty

I leave Annie’s house as the sky illuminates with another flash of lightning. Rain drives in slants, slapping my face as I avoid the woods, racing along the sodden path, my heart thumping, my mind spinning with thoughts of what I’m doing.

Annie had said I was like Mum, her actions often confused with bravery. I don’t recall seeing that side of her, but I see it in myself now.