‘Everyone can float!’ Rory said.

She started to shake. She was not a burning tree; she was a freezing woman who couldn’t swim.

Rory held the tops of her arms. ‘I’ll help you. It’s not far and it’s probably not that deep either. We have to. It’s our only chance.’

Thea stood and eyed the rocks at the cave mouth that were blocking their path. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to climb them, after all? All it would take was a delicate balancing on a knife edge and a few impossible leaps …

Easy.

Her foot slithered on a patch of slime and shot out from under her. She flailed her arms ineffectually as Rory caught her around the waist and steadied her. They held on to each other like that for a few seconds, scared to move in case they slipped again.

Around them the sea slapped against the rocks and the dark cave loomed behind, taking the sound of the waves and dragging it into its depths, so it could twist and torture it. There would be bats in there, maybe, or maybe years ago smugglers had used this cave to store their loot taken from shipwrecks. Thea had read somewhere that on islands like this the whole community would come down to the shore if there was a ship floundering, not to help, but to take it apart with pickaxes and strip it of its cargo. Perhaps even beacons up on the cliff had lured unsuspecting vessels to their doom.

Thinking about smugglers and bats took her mind off how she was still clutching Rory, his bulk steadying her and also sheltering her from the wind. From far away it would look like they were caught in a fervent embrace, the cave and the rocks providing a dramatic background.

‘All I could think about was you.’

The words remained between them, like static.

‘I have a memory stick,’ Thea blurted out, not quite sure why she was speaking but barrelling on. ‘Moses gave it to me in the lighthouse. Proof of what the technology can do.’

Rory tilted his head. His face was very close to hers.

‘You should take it, in case – I mean, it’s got to make it out and I can’t— I might …’

His expression when she finally looked him in the eye was enough to make her breath hitch. ‘You will make it,’ he said. ‘We will make it. Okay?’

She nodded because any words were jammed tight in her throat.

‘But,’ he added, turning to the waves again and letting go of her arms, ‘you should put it in the zip pocket of your jacket to be safe. It’s waterproof.’

She felt dizzy without his support but squared her shoulders and edged closer to the flat rocks where the water swirled, trying to remember everything that swimming instructor had told her years ago.

‘Should we take off our shoes?’