Fiona had a head start, and she darted nimble-footed across the moors. Sara was no match for her speed, stumbling over stones and losing her footing in gaps between the heather, air ripping into her lungs as she pushed herself forward as fast as she dared go. Hailey was way ahead of her, fitter and used to running, while Sara thought her lungs might explode. She had to watch where she was treading, unable to keep her eyes on her target as Fiona sped towards the jumble of gritstone boulders.

After a few minutes, Hailey stopped, gazing around, and Sara caught up with her, pulling to a halt, puffing and panting so hard she couldn’t speak.

‘What the hell is she playing at?’ Hailey frowned, scanning the moors, but there was no sign of Fiona anywhere.

‘Oh no, don’t say we’ve lost her.’ Sara turned in a full circle. ‘There,’ she said, her heart flip-flopping as she pointing to a figure on a narrow path that eventually led back down to the car park. ‘She’s doubled back.’ They set off at a jog, Hailey pulling ahead again while Sara concentrated on where she was putting her feet, her legs shaky and weak after the unaccustomed exercise.

A sharp scream made her stop and scan the moors ahead of her. Fiona had disappeared. Sara stood looking around at the boulder-strewn landscape, the ground cloaked in heather and bilberry bushes. There were endless hiding places; all Fiona had to do was duck down when they weren’t looking and she’d be hidden from sight. Hailey had stopped too, and glanced back, throwing up her hands. ‘Where the hell did she go?’

With her heart pounding in her chest, Sara methodically scoured the hillside for movement. ‘Over there!’ she called, as she spotted a hand flapping in the air. Relief surged through her. Looks like she’s tripped and fallen over. She started running before she had time to even think about it, and dashed down the path after her sister, determined to reach Fiona before she could get up and make her escape.

She arrived just after Hailey, both of them panting hard, dragging in air as they bent over the crumpled figure. Fiona was lying on a bed of bilberry bushes at the side of the narrow path, wedged between a couple of boulders.

‘Help me,’ she said, her leg folded beneath her at an unnatural angle, her hand cradling her elbow, face screwed up in agony.

Sara stared at her, hands on hips as she tried to speak between rasping breaths. ‘What the hell are you doing? Where are the girls? You’re supposed to be in the Lake District.’

‘They’re still at my house,’ Fiona gasped. ‘I had to come back to attend to… some urgent business.’