The blackness rose up around them, the moon pressing over the cottage above. The cliffs monumental from here. They rounded the boat, watched as she rocked with their movements. The boat was sound, quiet, beautiful. She breathed with each ripple as if glad to be back in the water. Nefyn smiled at Hamza and gestured for him to follow her. He watched as she swam, her skin glowing whiter in the water, her hair darkening in strands around her face. Moving here was nothing to her. Effortless. He followed her, trusting, like a child, further and further out. And when she was happy, she asked him to lie on his back. She swam beside him, holding his head. Pressed her face to the side of his face.

‘Look up,’ she whispered.

He relaxed. Thought of his father once more.

Don’t fight it, his voice in his head. And this time, there was no panic. No grappling, no fighting for air. He tilted his head backwards, the pupils of his eyes widening. And there he saw the stars, fierce and vital in the night sky. Each one vibrant. Patterns upon patterns. Constellations. Signs. Symbols. Words, perhaps. He gasped. They were all around them too, not just above, they were wherever he looked, at the apex of the world and at the horizon.

‘It’s Fatima’s globe,’ she said quietly. Hamza smiled. ‘Trust,’ she whispered again, kissing the side of his face. The blackness of the night enfolded them, and blurred the separation of water and air so that they hung between two worlds, the Earth turning around them.