‘Not Bob …’ Maria gasped. She didn’t want him getting involved.

‘Leave it with me,’ Annie said again, firmly.

Maria ran back, her head spinning with what she’d just agreed to. There was no way they could get away with this, surely? But what would happen to them otherwise? An investigation could find her guilty, or worse, Danny. Involving the police would open up all their other secrets and she still wasn’t prepared to do that.

Inside, she crept up to Danny’s bedroom and gently opened his door. He pulled himself upright, his eyes filled with panic.

‘She’s fine,’ Maria breathed, her voice rising patchily. ‘There’s nothing for you to worry about.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. I’m sure.’ She tried to smile, watching her son’s shoulders drop though he still looked at her uneasily.

‘Did you get my book?’ he asked.

She shook her head. She hadn’t even thought of the damn book. ‘I’ll look tomorrow.’

Maria crept out of his room, closing the door behind her, her eyes filled with tears as she leant against it.

Now she had to tell David. And then they would have to leave. There was no way she could stay on this island after what had just happened.

Maria wished David would hold her close, but he was clenching her shaking body at arm’s length. She’d told him it was an accident, that Iona and Danny were arguing and she’d tried to get Danny’s book when Iona slipped backwards over the edge of the cliff.

She sensed he didn’t believe her, but she’d started on this story now, and even though it wasn’t too late to admit what had really happened, she never did. Maria would rather he always thought of her as capable of manslaughter than their son. She couldn’t bear to see that in David’s eyes every time he looked at Danny.

Instead she begged that Danny must never know Iona was dead. That he had to believe she was alright.

No one else would see it as an accident – at least they agreed on that. Because as soon as the police were called, they’d turn up all kinds of interesting information including what Iona was doing on the island in the first place.

Then the secret that they’d been hiding on Evergreen for seventeen years would be out.

Maria couldn’t stop sobbing, gulping lungfuls of air she couldn’t swallow. ‘We need to leave,’ she told David. ‘As soon as possible.’ She would have dragged the children out of their beds and fled that night.

But they agreed that would be unwise. They would go the following night. Tell everyone David had found another job because the ferry was losing them money. She would lie to Susan about the extent of their financial troubles and come hell or high water they would be off the island within twenty-four hours.