We rumble past the school and down to the island’s landing bay. I scan every inch of horizon along the way but can’t spot Charlie or anyone else of his size, probably because all the other children are already on their way off the island.

The coast looks calm today, thank God, so at least our boat won’t be battered by waves all the way across the Bristol Channel like the last time we traveled to the mainland, almost a year ago. They say these waters are safer than ever now, patrolled and well out of the action, which does make sense. It’s not just for our little archipelago’s sake that the warships are placed where they are. An undefended Bristol Channel would allow the enemy deep into the belly of Britain.

I hold Emma tighter. We’ve made it through four years of war without incident. Last week’s cease-fire seems to be holding. We’ll be fine today.

I can’t yet see the dock where our boat is waiting, but I do see the much larger Pride of Lute cutting smoothly through the water, every inch of its deck packed with passengers. It reminds me of photos I’ve seen of trains packed with children evacuating London during the Blitz.

God. No. Stop. If anything, it looks like a spring break party yacht.

They’ve got to be uncomfortable packed in like sardines, but then, they’re in for a quicker ride than we are, twenty minutes tops to get over to Sunnan Island versus hours to the mainland. It’ll be a rustic weekend for everybody, even the ones who’ve snagged the moldering holiday cottages. Tents and bonfires for the rest, but a little discomfort is a small price to pay to indulge Lute Island’s favorite superstition one more time.

I wilt a little watching them go, like a child who hasn’t been invited to the party, but that’s not strictly fair. Just the other day, two of “the mums,” Wendy and Jenny, asked if I was coming with the kids to Sunnan now that the decision had been made to send them away. When I said we were leaving too, for our anniversary, they looked more disappointed than I’d expected.

“If you’re still here, you can wave us off, then,” Wendy said, which only made me feel awkwarder, not knowing that that was a thing.