I use my cardigan as a glove and quickly set the oil lamp upright. Luckily its glass chimney isn’t broken. Then I pour the rest of the flask of cold milky tea over the flames to put them out.

A horrible smoky smell fills the room. Tan opens her mouth and gives a low cough. But she is all right. She was tucked up on the other side of the nest, unharmed. The lump of bread is still beside her. Tan hasn’t eaten any of it in the night, which can’t be a good thing. But, anyway, somehow this morning her feathers seem brighter.

With relief I pick Tan up and put her back in my cardigan pocket. She curls up comfortably in there, warming my side.

Now that I am properly awake I climb the stairs to the lantern room and put out the flame of the big lantern also. When I’ve finished, I go down to see Brenda, Bertha and Bella in their hutch and Gertrude in her shed.

Between them, the three hens have laid only one egg today. Gertrude headbutts me angrily and refuses to be milked, so I decide to leave her until later.

Provisions are getting low. I hope that Dad returns today with more food. Otherwise I will have to forage for cockles and mussels along the coast.

Before I have my breakfast, I decide I will try to find something for Tan to eat. I wander out into the walled allotment garden, where we grow all our vegetables. I take Tan from my pocket and put her down beside a large orange pumpkin that has yet to ripen. Then I find a spade and start to dig in the raised bed. The earth is damp and soft. I turn it over, looking for worms and grubs. Part of this is to teach Tan to feed herself.

Each time I find a worm, I put it down next to her.

“Here you go!” I whisper. “Juicy worms!”

Tan doesn’t seem interested. She ignores the long slimy creatures.

I stare at her, frustrated. “Worms are what you’re supposed to eat, you stupid bird!”

Why doesn’t Tan want them? Is she still unwell?

I glance up for a second, thinking. Then, all of a sudden, I see something in the distance.

A figure.

Someone is walking slowly up the path from the jetty and across the island towards the lighthouse. Even at this distance I can tell it isn’t Mum or Dad.

“Deryn!” the figure calls out as it gets closer.

It’s Grandma. As soon as she gets near enough, she grabs me and hugs me tight.

“There’s good news and bad news,” Grandma says, and my heart twists in my chest like a fish on a line.

Chapter 10

10

GRANDMA DARLING

I sit at the kitchen table, beside the stove. Tan is curled up once again in my cardigan pocket. I check on her intermittently.