Joseph spread the maps on the kitchen table. They marked the military base as well as the smaller lookout points along the coast. The sea was open, the few fishing vessels left in the bay allowed to sail within a certain area of The Range now that the main testing was over. This would all make it easier for them. Joseph used a protractor to measure the angles between the lookouts, tracking an invisible course. They would need to exploit their blind spots. There were enough of them; the local fishermen had used them over the years when they absolutely had to, but no one had tried to navigate out of the cove and across the Irish Sea through The Range unseen. Joseph had contacts in the North, friends who worked on vessels carrying shipping containers from Liverpool to France. They passed every day. If they could get Hamza out to a certain point in the Irish Sea, they could offload him on the quiet on to one of the boats bound for France.

If they went out before dawn, they’d catch the highest tide, there’d be fewer soldiers manning the watch points and they could use Joseph’s sextant to find their way, and remain digitally undetected. That way, they’d have enough light to see the horizon and enough darkness to be guided by the stars. Polaris and Vega would give them their bearings and they would work it out from there. Hamza nodded. The spring tide would be in their favour, as the moon loomed closest to Earth. They had a week’s worth of work left on the boat, and if everything came together, they could be ready by the highest tide.

‘Thank you,’ said Hamza. Joseph found it difficult to look at him. Nefyn cleared the table and Hamza helped her lay it with bread and cheese, and they sat to eat. Nefyn raised her eyes every now and again to watch them. Hamza caught her and looked over at Joseph, the tension in his body worsening now that his practical input was over. Then he brushed his hands on his trousers, got up to leave.

‘Please don’t,’ said Hamza. ‘I can sleep out there, you go to your bed.’

Joseph shook his head.

‘No, it’s better if we stick to how things are. Don’t change anything for now.’

Joseph turned for the door, before hearing Hamza’s voice behind him.

‘Joseph?’ He turned to see Hamza pulling his lost phone from his pocket and offering it to him. A tentativeness in Hamza’s eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said uncertainly, ‘I didn’t know what to do.’

Joseph studied him a moment, the mistrust between them dissipating. ‘It’s OK. I understand.’ He pocketed the phone. ‘I’ll bring it back to you; you’ll need it when you sail.’ Hamza nodded.