It took him longer than it should have done to accept that he was lost, because it seemed so impossible that he could be lost, right here on this island he’d known so well once and on what was, after all, such a small stretch of land: there were only a few miles of hills and moorland to get lost on and somehow he had managed it. The northern-central part of the island lacked the clear landmarks of the coastal areas. It was easy to go round in circles without realizing it, as Tom came to believe he had been doing. Even easier once the light was fading, as it was now.

He needed to rest and decide what to do next. He found a thick gorse bush halfway down one of the mounds, which afforded him some shelter from the wind—growing stronger now—while avoiding the damp of the lower ground. His feet were very cold in the wet boots. Tom huddled down in the shelter of the gorse and thought, This is a predicament.

He had no real fear. It wasn’t cold enough yet that a man would freeze to death out in the open air at night, and there were no deep bogs he was likely to stray into. Still, if he really couldn’t find his way home, it looked to be a very uncomfortable night. There was no hope, even, of someone coming out to look for him in a car; he was too far from the road for that to be helpful at all.

Never mind.

He rested his arms on his knees and let his mind clear for a few moments. He would gather his energy and then make a plan.

But the stillness in his mind was dangerous. It was in these moments that other things found their way in. Tom had felt it coming closer and closer over the past few days, the memory of how his survival had come at the cost of Nicky’s. Now he felt his older brother, forever a child, standing beside him. He had never known why his father had spared him and not Nicky, who was his favourite after all. It was possible, Tom thought sometimes, that his father simply couldn’t be bothered to search for him. Perhaps if it had been Nicky, he would have searched.

Abruptly, Tom forced himself to his feet. He would not sit still. He would continue to walk, and not change direction. Even if he was going the wrong way, he would reach some part of the road eventually; he could hardly avoid it, given that it ran in a loop.