Hamza had taken over, but his scant knowledge failed him. He fought the sea. Felt the full force of the squall on his face. The waves had become bigger, taller, each one raising the boat, before letting it plummet downwards. Spray coming in on both sides. He saw the fear in Emrys’s eyes as he sat in the bottom of the boat, his head knocking against its side. Blood in his hair. And then, as Hamza’s arms burned against the tiller, something happened. He felt a great stillness around him. He let go. He stopped fighting. He thought of what Nefyn had said to him. He pulled his hand away and stood. The sea tossing the little boat as if it were nothing. Then, he moved on his hands and knees across the boat and sat down with Emrys. Put his arm around him, centring his thoughts on Hussein. The old man closed his eyes, his heart rising, thinking of Efa when she was young, the softness of her eyes; felt the warmth of Hamza’s arm around him, the world moving beneath them. Their laughable smallness. His shoulders relaxed as he felt a wonder grow inside him and they both sat trusting in the boat, each leaving his fate to his own god.

The watchmen in the tower along the coast had been talking. There were rumours about the Lieutenant Colonel, that he’d lost his mind. They had been discussing this when they caught the tail end of an object on their radar. There were sometimes anomalies. Things they couldn’t explain, and they had thought that maybe this was one of those times. They knew the boats had been scrambled to an incident at The Range and they knew the helicopter was on its way.

The noise was deafening. The helicopter was lurching in the sky overhead. Joseph clung on to the side of the boat, his legs stretched out to brace his body. He was exhausted. He had put up his hood, in order to cover his face, to buy some more time. The army boat had turned back. There was a great, metallic din. A voice overhead. Telling him to leave The Range, that he was in military waters. He was asked to put his hands up. He resisted. He was warned again. His heart clenching and unclenching. They asked him to show his face but he could hardly hear. They would usually have sent down a soldier, commandeered the boat, but it was too rough for that. They warned him to turn back. Joseph looked at his watch. He needed more time. He steadied himself. Pushed himself back on the floor, his mind still on the beach with Nefyn.

Her eyes were closed now, her breathing laboured. Efa knelt behind her, tried to prop her up on the sand, but she was so cold. So cold to the touch.