To this day, she didn’t know quite why she’d done it. Efa held the keys to the sacristy, where the cleaning cupboards were. She had pushed the key into the lock. Opened the chest where the wafers of bread and wine were kept and carried them to her. Arianell had watched Efa coming down the aisle, watched her sit in the pew at the front. Place the sacramental cup down before bowing her head and praying, her back to the altar. Their whispers combined and echoed around them as they finished. Then, Efa placed some bread on to her palm. Watched as she pressed her lips to it and crossed herself. Efa then held the cup to her mouth. The jewelled colour of the lights through the window illuminating them both. She watched as she drank. Her tired face, her thirst. Her hand over Efa’s hand as she swallowed. She closed her eyes and Efa saw the tears slide silently down her face. And there they sat, in that cold church, a communion of women. That was the last time she saw her. A few weeks later she had gone. Disappeared. He said that she had left him but Efa was never so sure. He had a boat. She was terrified. Weaker than him. Efa had vowed to herself then that she would try to look after Nefyn as much as she would allow. When news came of her father’s death, Efa did not grieve, felt only relief mixed with a concern about the children. They were both so young.

She looked out, the light lingering longer as spring started making its presence felt. She would have to go and see Nefyn. She wouldn’t rest until she had.

Hamza had watched her as the light grew around them. They had lain intertwined, their bodies borderless. Each reviving the other, sharing their warmth. They had not kissed, but had simply lain, her back to his chest, listening to each other breathing. The strange closeness of someone else. After she fell asleep, her head heavy on his arm, Hamza had held her against him. The thin skin of her freckled shoulder under his chin.

He looked at the compass in the half-light. It wasn’t impossible that she had found it. It might have been brought to shore just like he had. But it was heavy – surely it would have sunk, been dragged to the depths and lain there, immovable. She must have swum. Swum into the sea and looked for it. But the expanse? The size of the compass? He had tried to find out, but she had given no more explanation and the shadows under her eyes made him reluctant to ask again.