‘The only way our daughters would be escaping from their bedrooms at midnight is through the keyhole,’ said Mary. Her tone was flat and hard to read, but it was familiar – similar to how Cat Walton had spoken in seeming defence of Leah Cedars. There was a sense that the listener was being played with.

Girls can’t escape through keyholes, of course, everyone on Lark knew that, but witches could. Witches do.

The night before the Feast of the Transfiguration, the island following the Lutheran tradition and celebrating this in February, Cat Walton hosted a meeting at the chapel. The attendees were as follows: the mothers of the Eldest Girls, Margaritte Carruthers, Ruth French, Benjamin Hailey. No invitation was extended to Diana Crane or Elizabeth Bishy, to Eleanor Springer or Hope Ainsley, yet Reuben Springer, of all the hopeless cases, was seen scuffing up towards St Rita’s that night.

‘We were planning the upcoming Easter Celebrations,’ explained the curate in the Anchor after the event, pre-empting the expected objections. ‘We thought we should give other members of the community the opportunity to participate.’ Adding: ‘By that, I mean give the usual volunteers a well-earned break.’ For safety, she tagged on: ‘So they may wholly concentrate on their devotional fasts during Lent without the burden of extra responsibilities.’

At the service for the Feast of the Transfiguration, Father Daniel read from the Book of Matthew, telling how Jesus took Peter, James and John up into the mountains, his face shining. There, a voice from above had told the men that Jesus was indeed the Lord’s beloved son.

‘And Jesus came and touched them, and said, Arise, and be not afraid,’ said Father Daniel, lifting his eyes from the book, receiving earnest nods from the congregation in return.

The Eldest Girls were then ushered to the front, joined by the red-haired coycrock girl who had teased her fiery mane into a long, neat plait, and, like the others, wore a white chapel-best dress, clearly borrowed as it was too long.

All creatures of our God and king, they chimed, displaying their perfect harmonies once more, this time not hidden within the crowd. Lift up your voice and with us sing.

Mary Ahearn started the round of applause at the diminishing of their last beautiful note. Clapping was unusual in chapel, was considered de trop, so not everyone joined in, but those who did made enough sound for the rest. The girls, who were now closest to the altar, were first to receive the Sacrament of the Eucharist. Everyone saw the coycrock girl give a nod, red braid riding up and down her spine, before she made a throne of her hands and received the body of Christ with an Amen. They saw each of the Eldest Girls step forward after her and gently bow, opening their mouths and offering their tongues.

‘Amen.’

‘Amen.’

‘Amen.’

All four drank from the cup.