Hannah speaks to the man cheerfully, efficiently, as if the pantomime outside the door had never taken place, or as if it was entirely normal.

‘Ah, Lord Catherbridge!’ she trills.

‘What is it?’ he bumbles, those bright eyes making a swift assessment of Viola.

‘There’s something very important that you need to do.’ Hannah’s tone drops low, becomes urgent, her faith in Viola’s plan seemingly still strong, so Viola gathers herself, summons all residual hope.

‘You’re needed on the Council, sir,’ says Hannah, setting it all in motion. ‘It’s a matter of life or death.’

March 2018

MARCH 2018

It was true that she had meddled in Mr Hailey’s business, but she had done it for them.

Faced with that firing line at the stones – their three reproachful faces – Viola held back her desire to wail After everything I’ve done for you! She knew that shouldn’t matter, and it didn’t. She had never expected gratitude, any kind of payment. But their acceptance, their friendship – she’d considered that hers, immutable.

Britta tossed a dark gaze to Anna, then Jade-Marie, getting their nods of permission to go on. ‘Mr Hailey’s getting us out of here,’ she said.

Viola’s throat tightened. ‘What?’

‘The project isn’t the play.’ Britta spoke from beneath the fall of her hair. There was a sense of apology to this explanation, but also condescension. Did Viola really believe they were relying absolutely on spells and chants and the reassurances of a red-haired coycrock? A play was not enough to solve everything. ‘Mr Hailey is preparing a document about us.’

‘A dossier,’ Jade-Marie put in, pleased with the word, one clearly gifted by Benjamin Hailey. ‘We’ve given him statements, had our photos taken. He’s going to hand it in to the authorities on the mainland.’ She was perversely excited about this.

‘We’re going to take it.’ Anna jumped in with the clarification. ‘Mr Hailey’s going to take us with him.’

‘On… On the April ship?’ Viola stammered.

Britta shook her head. ‘The August ship. He’s going to finish one whole school year so as not to…’ She paused, searching it seemed for another of the man’s expressions. ‘So as not to arouse suspicion.’

‘What… Mr Hailey’s really a policeman?’ Viola was a girl in a rabbit hole, a child tumbling down a well. ‘So… he’s… he’s working undercover or…’

‘No, he’s just a teacher,’ said Jade-Marie. ‘Just a man.’ Quickly adding, ‘But he does care about us.’

‘You’re going to leave your mums behind, your dads?’ said Viola. She turned to Anna. ‘Your little brother?’ The true cry within her was: What about me? What about me? ‘What about the girls here who are about to turn sixteen?’

‘That’s all been sorted.’ Jade-Marie beamed with evangelical fervour. ‘We’ll send for them once we get there, once we’ve got it all settled.’