‘Oh God! Is that – is that the dinghy?’

Turquoise blue and gleaming white, the splintered remains of the Silver Darling were rolling in the waves, almost too small to see amid the turbulent expanse of the Moray Firth.

Frank’s face told of Anna’s own horror. ‘No,’ he muttered, ghostly white, ‘Oh, no, no.’

Anna stumbled forward, trying to see the stretch of shore she knew was beneath them. Loose stones and earth moved beneath her feet. Below, more of the wrecked dinghy revealed itself, Bren’s faithful little boat washed up in pieces no more substantial than kindling. It must have been smashed against the rocks by the waves.

No one could survive that, Anna thought, numb, frozen to the bone. Yet she kept edging down, losing her footing on the wet earth with each step, grasping clumps of foliage as she went.

‘Anna,’ Frank shouted. ‘It’s not safe. Come back! Here—’

She glanced back up at him to see that he was winding the rope around the gorse bush. Frank tied it off, then threw the coil down to her.

‘Come back up, love,’ he urged her. ‘There’s nowt we can do now.’

Anna took hold of the rope. Her feet were slipping constantly. Frank was right, there was nothing they could do. Robert MacKenzie’s face appeared in her mind, the depth of that flash of pain she’d seen cross his face on the first night they’d met, and the breath left her lungs as if someone had crushed her chest. How could he survive this? How could anyone?

‘Anna,’ Frank shouted, again.

As she turned back to the cliff, something caught her eye. A flash, below her, barely there. Anna turned back again but it had gone.

‘Anna,’ Frank urged. ‘I’m worried this bush isn’t going to hold. You’ve got to come back.’

‘Wait,’ she said, as much to herself as to him. ‘I need – give me a minute.’

Holding on to the rope she edged lower, leaning out as far as she dared, praying that the bush would hold her weight. There it was again, so close to the cliff that the overhang on which she stood had almost hidden it from her.

A flash of yellow.

Anna screamed. No words, just an explosion of sound.

‘What?’ Frank shouted, as she started scrambling down the cliff.

‘He’s here!’ Anna yelled back. ‘He’s here, Robbie’s here!’

‘Anna, wait!’

She looked back up at Frank. ‘I can’t leave him there on his own! I can’t see how badly he’s hurt! Call the lifeguard! Call someone! I’m going down.’

‘Anna!’

She didn’t hear anything else Frank said. Anna inched her way down the cliff, more of the shoreline appearing as she did so. Robbie was a tiny figure wrapped up in his yellow waterproof, backed against the cliff.

‘Robbie,’ she shouted. ‘ROBBIE!’