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Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. Acknowledgements ♦ Diolchiadau
  50. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

‘Nefyn … please. Stop.’ Efa was trying to reach her but she was fading. Whispering. Her words like water, unceasing. Flowing. Urging the storm on. Efa could feel it weakening her. In front of her eyes.

‘Nefyn, please.’

Joseph began to see pictures in his head. His father. His mother. Nefyn as a child. Joseph had loved them all, in his way. She was in trouble now, though. He could feel it. He’d known she’d send a storm. They’d all known it, but its tempestuousness was breathtaking. There was a darkness when he thought of her. It had always been the other way around – she seemed to know instinctively about his welfare – but now, when he thought of her, there was nothing. He looked up. Looked at his watch. He could hold on no longer. Pulled down his hood, looked up at the sky. Felt the winds sting his face. Took a breath. His whole body was shaking now.

The helicopter sent back the report. White male. Mid-twenties. Probable fisherman in trouble. The Captain took the message, swore, sent a relay around the other watchtowers in case they had noticed anything suspicious. By the time the course of Hamza and Emrys’s boat came back, they were already late to dispatch the helicopter to the new coordinates. The Captain stood by the radio, waiting for news. Willing them on. As they flew further out, past the local squall, conditions became calmer, but they were too late. A cargo ship had long since slowed. A dinghy been dispatched. All the helicopter found was a boat, set adrift, empty, save for the body of an elderly gentleman lying dead in its hull.

43

Cove ♦ Kuf ♦ Cildraeth

JOSEPH HAD SAILED BACK to the cove as fast as he could. He was exhausted. His arms aching. His back stiff. The storm had settled and Nefyn lay unconscious in Efa’s arms. He had run the boat aground before wading through the water, shouting her name, carrying her in his arms up to the cottage. Efa followed, her heart breaking.

‘I tried to stop her,’ she said. ‘She wouldn’t listen.’

‘She was buying them time,’ he answered. He kicked open the door, the cottage in disarray, ransacked. Joseph looked wordlessly at Efa and carried Nefyn to the chair. He told Efa to light the fire as he pulled Nefyn’s wet dress over her head, wrapped her in blankets. Joseph feeling for her pulse. In her wrist, her neck. It was weak and erratic. Efa lit the fire, still in her coat, tried to get some warmth into the place.

‘Did you see anything? Did they make it?’ Efa asked.

‘I don’t know,’ he muttered, ‘I don’t know.’ Joseph studied Nefyn’s face as he rubbed her hands in his.

‘Come on, Nefyn … please, come on.’