‘No, something’s not right with her.’ Amber grabs the blanket off her mother and aunt’s knees, steps off the veranda and rushes towards the girl.

Chapter Two

Amber crouches down beside the girl and wraps the blanket around her slim shoulders. The girl is freezing to the touch and is shaking uncontrollably, her long colourless eyelashes glistening with frost. Amber instinctively pulls her close, willing her own warmth to seep into the girl’s fragile body.

‘What on earth are you doing here with no coat?’ she asks as Viv and Rita jog over.

The girl doesn’t say anything, just looks up at Amber with big, bewildered eyes.

‘Look at her, she’s freezing,’ Viv comments as they get to her.

Amber’s mum looks down at the girl, brow furrowed. ‘Are you local, love?’

The girl blinks, her eyelashes sticking together from the ice. ‘I – I don’t know,’ she replies. The three redheads exchange looks.

‘She looks familiar,’ Viv murmurs. ‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’

‘How long have you been out here?’ Rita asks.

‘Where are your shoes?’ Viv adds.

‘Too many questions!’ Amber says. She helps the girl up. ‘Come on, let’s get you into the warmth, you need defrosting.’

They all help the girl limp towards the beach hut and Amber takes the chance to examine her pretty face. Her eyes are set wide apart beneath her feathery blonde fringe, her nose a button. There’s a ring in her nose, a gem in her eyebrow. Both pretty and blue, like the streaks in her hair. She looks to be in her late teens. There’s a chance Amber’s aunt is right – maybe the girl had got drunk the night before and ended up in one of the beach huts? It happened sometimes. But looking at this girl, Amber thought she didn’t seem the type to do that. Not like Amber was at that age, wild-haired and even more wild-minded.

They walk into the middle hut and Amber helps the girl sit down on a stool. She turns up the electric heater. As she does so, Rita gasps. Amber follows her gaze to see the hair behind the girl’s right ear is matted with blood.

‘Call an ambulance,’ Amber says quickly, pulling her glove off, grabbing a sanitary towel from her bag and pressing it against the girl’s wound. The girl flinches then tries to brush the towel away.

‘No, love,’ Amber says, gently lowering her hand. ‘You’ve hurt yourself.’