‘How are you feeling?’

‘Aside from nauseous, anxious, terrified, stressed, upset to be leaving the kids, and worried about what state we’re going to find Alice and Grace in? I’m feeling great, thanks.’ She didn’t know where the acid in her voice had come from. It was as if all the emotions she had been attempting to keep bottled up were spilling over into a venomous outpouring of fear.

Jem didn’t flinch or take offence at her tone. Instead he just nodded, placed a friendly hand on her shoulder, and said, ‘Yeah, me too.’

They couldn’t avoid it any longer. They had miles to walk and they needed to make camp way before nightfall. In late autumn, they didn’t have as much time or light as they needed, so they had to swallow their fears and set out on their journey.

Everyone gathered outside on the shale beach that Jem had dragged the unconscious Lily onto by the light of the full moon. How different the world felt now. She had experienced friendship and companionship from every single person that stood on this beach and, in a strange way, she felt almost thankful that events had led her to this stormy lighthouse.

Almost.

Lily was wrapped in her own heavy emerald cloak, and underneath that was a thinner, lighter, more insulating cape of Grace’s. She wore high-waisted, fitted trousers the colour of burnt umber, tucked into thick socks and her trusty worn leather boots. A thick taupe fisherman’s jumper was pulled down over her torso and climbed up to roll around her neck. She felt warm and comfortable and much more ready for a fight than if she’d have been in one of her heavy plaid dresses. She pulled the hood of the cloak up over her strawberry-blonde tresses, which she had left loose; she hadn’t been in the mood to try and tackle the bird’s nest today. She felt like Mother Earth herself, wild and turbulent, ready to face whatever it was that stood between her and Alice. But inside, she felt like a little girl in a world that was far too big and scary for her to cope with. She hoped it didn’t show on her face.

Jem was dressed similarly, in warm black woollen trousers and dark leather boots. A grey shirt poked out of the neck of his thick black jumper and his cloak was floor-length, like a black cloud following him as he walked. His hood was also pulled up over his russet hair, the usual unkempt strands falling over his face. He looked firm and unflappable. When Lily looked at Jem, she knew that his strength was a rock for her to lean on, but she had to remind herself that he, too, needed a rock, and she would try to be that for him. She had to. Maeve tugged gently on Lily’s cloak hem, and Lily kneeled down so she was face to face with the little girl.

‘Are you going to bring back Aunty Grace?’ Maeve asked, tears welling in her eyes.