‘So,’ I said, ‘it probably can’t see us, because it doesn’t seem to have any eyes.’

‘Unless they’re on the ends of the tentacles?’ said Kate.

‘Yes, that could be an issue,’ I conceded.

‘But the others died before they’d gone past the ends of the tentacles,’ said James.

‘OK, then,’ I said. ‘Hearing’s probably out, because we were shouting so loudly.’

‘But then why are we shouting at all?’ said Lana. ‘It definitely works a bit; it definitely distracts the Jellyfish.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘OK, we’ll say there’s some proof of that hypothesis having been tested.’

‘And found convincing . . .’ said Lana.

‘Yes. What about smell? Can it smell us?’ We avoided eye contact at that point, but I heard James snigger. ‘Yes, probably,’ I said. ‘It probably can smell us.’

‘And so could anybody within a mile,’ said James.

‘Yes, yes, fine. Can we rule out taste?’ I said.

‘Yes,’ said Kate. ‘Most of us walk around barefoot now, whereas we used to have plastic bags on our feet, so I don’t think it can tell the difference.’

‘What about touch, then? What about that sense?’

We stood there silently for a minute. That did seem to be all that was left.

Kate opened her mouth for a second, and then closed it. She left her tongue partially out, though.

‘What is it?’ I said.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing,’ she said.

‘Is it?’

‘Well . . . maybe it’s weight,’ she said. ‘I’ve just always thought it could tell if we were on here or not by the changes in the feeling. Like if a fly lands on you, you know? You know he’s there if he moves or tickles, but he’s so light that when he flies off you can’t really tell. But if a fish lands on you you know straight away, don’t you? Not because it’s moving, or because it smells, or because it’s making a noise, or because you’re tasting it . . . but because it’s heavier than a fly.’

‘Let us pray,’ said Carol.

We put our hands together, and some people bowed their heads.

‘Let us pray for the five brave, unfortunate souls who died today. Let them rest, Lord. Let them truly find rest, as sailors on the sea did in the past. We remember them today, and always, for their bravery, and their spirit.’

We stood there, with the wind sighing above us and the gentle slap of the waves all around. Nobody was crying now. I think we had all exhausted our tears. Instead, our sadness was turning to anger, and to thoughts of revenge.

‘And let us pray for us all,’ added Soldier John. ‘Let us pray for an end.’