There was a full moon, and very little cover in the wood, so the police never lost sight of her. They continued right up to the top of the hill in a straight line, until they reached the cliff path, where they came face to face with the precipitous descent to the vast churning sea below, which, dark and shining in the moonlight, was already pitted with rain. The tide was in, lapping up against the seaweed straggle of the high-tide mark.

LUCIJA: I ran down the cliff path. I could see that Eva was halfway across to the island already. The man, Mariam’s ex-husband, was standing on the beach. He shouted that he had wanted to go with her in the boat, but she hadn’t waited.

The policewoman could see that the wind was getting up. It was madness. The flock of sheep on the island was running back and forth, spooked by something. She rang the coastguard, while her colleague made his way down to the beach, after Lucija. The policewoman heard a shout. Another man had reached the clifftop – Henry Harcourt-Vane, Eva’s eldest son. More police were running up through the woods behind him. All watched as the boat seemed to lurch to starboard in a wave. Eva lifted her hands in the air, as if in benediction, and the wind scooped up objects from the boat and scattered them on the waters. Some papers, a piece of fabric which turned out to be her woollen scarf; it twirled up into the sky, a beautiful, exotic seabird, and down into the oily, seething sea. It was difficult to see much else.

The coastguards were on their way; Eva had almost got the boat as far as Cwen. When suddenly, a wave, or a current, span the boat round. It was carried down the south side of Cwen, and out of sight.

ALICE: I knew it had happened before I heard. I knew something awful—

There was a scream from the beach. The nun, Sister Lucija, ran out into the sea. The policeman was forced to wade in after her, and haul her, wet and salty, weeping and cussing, back to safety.

Eva had gone.

The coastguards were out all night, looking. The storm made things very difficult for them. The wind raged until the following morning, at which point all the local fishermen and women went out; a police helicopter; and islanders on both coasts, walking up and down the islands. It was late in the year; too cold, in those seas, for anyone to have—

ZOE: I can still recall the smell of her. It is so familiar.