The streetlights flickered, adding to her unsteady feeling, and something was banging repeatedly somewhere nearby, as if a board or door had come loose. She moved closer to Noah and he put his arm around her shoulder, anchoring her to him. They followed Daniel and Charlie along Porthgolow’s seafront, until they came to the road that cut up through the centre of the village, sea-facing houses in neat rows on either side. Charlie clasped Hannah and then Noah’s hand, gave Daniel a quick, tight hug, and then began striding away from them, her long legs making short work of the climb. Daniel watched her for a moment and then turned and gave them a thumbs-up.

Hannah wanted to laugh, the gesture wildly comical under the circumstances, but she and Noah returned it, and they started walking again.

Soon Hannah was soaked, chilled to the bone and struggling to drag in a full lungful of air. It was as if the storm was stealing her breath, and it was starting to feel less exhilarating and more exasperating. They hadn’t even reached the end of the seafront, and somehow they had to get all the way up the cliff.

Something small and white darted across in front of her, a bright streak in the dark, causing her to trip and Noah to tighten his hold on her. She peered past him, trying to see what it was.

‘What?’ Noah said, almost shouting to be heard.

‘Hang on!’ she shouted back, and shrugged out of his grasp.

All the buildings on the seafront, apart from Myrtle’s Pop-In, had three stairs leading up to their front doors, the houses tall with high windows. Hannah cupped her hands around her eyes to shield them from the rain, and was rewarded when she saw the white shape huddled against the steps of the bed and breakfast.

She crept towards it, keeping her movements small. She was only a few feet away when she saw what it was: a small, bedraggled dog. It looked up at her with large eyes, its ears drooping, its whole body vibrating with fear and cold.

‘Oh my God,’ Hannah murmured, and reached a hand out. Rather than cringe from her touch, the dog shuffled towards her. She unzipped her coat, picked the creature up and hugged it against her chest, covering it as best she could. It was about the size of Marmite, solid and heavy in her arms, mostly white with a few dark patches of fur.

‘Hannah?’ Noah and Daniel had followed her, and when she turned and pointed at the dog’s nose sticking out of her coat, they stared at her as if she’d gone mad. But the wind was stronger than ever, shrieking its fury, and the raindrops were like pebbles, so there wasn’t time for explanations. Noah held his hand out and Hannah took it, clutching the dog against her with her free arm.

They heaved themselves up the hill, Daniel’s pace relentless, Hannah’s legs aching before they were halfway up. The roaring of the wind got louder and the clouds churned above them, releasing an occasional glimmer of moon, like a spotlight behind curtains. She had been excited in the pub, but now she could almost taste her fear. Despite staying on the side of the road furthest from the sea, they were still close enough to the cliff edge that a strong gust could sweep them to unforgiving rocks and deadly undercurrents far below. Hannah adjusted her hold on Noah’s hand, lacing her fingers through his.