A search of the wrecked police station had turned up an old flare pistol – Second World War vintage if it was a day, but still in working order and – more importantly – with a large supply of cartridges which could be fired from a twelve-bore shotgun if its chokes were removed. That had meant taking a hacksaw to the barrel of Ellie’s gun, but she could live with that. Liz Harper’s Ithaca was already cut down, so Ellie gave her weapon to Charlotte and took that.

Charlotte had insisted on coming, as soon as she heard about the plan. Ellie divided half the flare cartridges between the two of them, with the remainder split between Noel, Ernie Stasiolek and Laura Caddick, who were staying to defend the camp.

Ellie, Charlotte and Jess each donned a heavy pack containing a ten-kilo propane cylinder. Madeleine couldn’t wear one due to the wounds on her back, but insisted on accompanying them nonetheless. They all wore as many layers of clothing as they could get away with without hampering their mobility: tonight would be a cold one.

Even Milly wasn’t sure what was keeping the vicar upright. “Dunno what it is she’s got,” she’d told Ellie, puffing on her cigarette, “but it makes MRSA look like a sore throat. It’s eating her alive.”

“What about the antibiotics you gave her?”

Milly shook her head. “She’s not gonna make it, Ell.” Her voice had cracked. “I can give her stuff for the pain, but that’s it. Girl shouldn’t be fucking walking, but she is.”

“Does she know?”

Milly nodded. “Started to tell her, but she stopped me. She’d already worked it out for herself.”

“You can’t be sure. I mean, she seems fine.”

“That’s the bit I can’t get.” Milly’s eyes were red, and Ellie felt the same dull ache of grief. “Maybe God’s keeping her going.”

“What, like her faith?”

“I mean God, Ell. Can’t think of another explanation.”

Ellie hadn’t responded to that. At best conversations like this only reminded her of the gulf between her beliefs and Milly’s; at worst they left her with questions to which there was no clearer answer than the one Milly had given years before: It’s a fallen world, Ellie, love; a fallen world.

Well, she’d no time to ponder such things now, anyway. They’d wait till afterwards, assuming there was one.

For now there were only the depths, and the fire.

“You don’t mind?” Jess said.

“Nah.” Tara touched Joel’s cheek. “He’s lovely.”

She might feel differently if she had to look after him twenty-four-seven, but Jess didn’t say so out loud. Hard work or not, Joel was her child. And without him, she might not be here.

“You really going down there?” said Tara.