He picked her up, carried her to her bed. Took off his own jumper, slid in under the covers beside her and tried to give her his warmth. Efa came to sit near by, studying them both. Their bodies together out of water. There was nothing to do but wait. Wait for Nefyn to wake. Wait for news. Wait for the boat to be brought home. Wait for Hamza to come back. Joseph looked at Nefyn. Her breathing shallow. Her skin sullen. A trembling in her neck where her pulse was. He had carried her from the beach before. In the same way. Her eight-year-old body hanging limply as he shouted for his father. His own blood running cold. Her skin tinged with blue, her tongue dumb. He pressed her to him, silently asked her to return to him. Clung to her, childlike, his words gone.

She was drowning now. In air. She could feel it. The dryness stinging her lungs, her skin. She was hanging just below the surface of consciousness. In her mind, she revisited the life she had lived. The path to the cove. The pools where she played with her brother. Her mother’s face. This way, she made an act of resurrection. She had half lived before and now, having lived fully with Hamza, she knew that she would not be able to breathe the same again. She thought of the way her mother enfolded her in her arms, the comfort she had felt in her embrace. She thought of the softness of Hamza’s stomach, the beauty of his curling hair. She thought of him breathing in the dark. The map they had made. She thought of Efa’s love, her gentle worry, and of Emrys’s sacrifice. She thought, too, of the shoebox full of objects that she had placed in Hamza’s bag for Hussein. An expression of who she was. The things that she had held dear. The magical smallness of things. Their infinite variety. She lay for a few hours and felt the warmth of Joseph close by her side, and she waited for Efa to fall asleep. When she sensed that she had, her eyes flickered open. Joseph looked up, his eyes exhausted. Her colour was changing. Joseph could see that. She was getting paler. Colder.

‘Nefyn?’

‘Shsh.’ She reached out and placed a finger on his mouth. She smiled at him, took in his face. His russet hair. He kissed her hand.

‘I need you to take me to the cove.’

He looked at her incredulously. Shook his head.

‘Joseph.’

‘I can’t.’ There was fear in his eyes again.

‘Joseph, I need you to be brave.’ Nefyn smiled weakly. She raised her arm, tugged at the side of his hair gently. ‘Come here.’ Her voice was faint as she pulled his head towards her, smiled as she felt his cheek on hers. Then she whispered, ‘He was dead, Joseph.’

Joseph turned his eyes in disbelief.