Tension surges through Alice’s body. Rain stings her cheeks like nettles. She holds onto Leon’s arm, her fingers pressed deep into the fabric of his wet jacket, as they hurry through trees that rock to and fro, their heads down against the blustery wind. And each time the wind settles for a brief moment, the tick, tick, tick of leaves falling through the branches is haunting.

The journey back to Flynn Hotel seems longer than the walk there, intermittent flashes of lightning, and crashes of thunder not helping Alice’s anxiety. She sighs with relief as they push through the last of the bushes and brambles, onto the hotel grounds, their shoes squelching into the grass as they dash towards the main entrance.

Christine and Faith turn the corner, disappearing from view, but Alice slows on the lawn, releasing Leon’s arm, her eyes moving up towards the attic window once more. The light is still on. Perhaps Christine was right and the electrics are playing up. Leon stops too, glances back at Alice, concern in his eyes.

‘You OK?’ he calls, the wind snatching his words, making them small. ‘Stupid question, I know.’

Alice nods, catches him up, pointing the beam of her torch towards the endless sea. Waves are high – abandoned – casting shadows like frolicking demons. She’s never seen the sea so out of control. She shivers, raindrops rolling down her cheeks, her neck. Her eyes skitter towards the wire fence waving in the frenzied wind like it’s alive. She takes hold of Leon’s arm once more, hating how close she came to losing him.

‘We should go inside.’ Leon pushes back his soaked hair from his face, and she sees the fear in his eyes. He’s scared too.

Inside the hotel, the grandfather clock tells them it’s twenty-five to two. Christine, Faith and Lori have congregated near the reception desk, talking in hushed, anxious voices.

‘Where are Mitch and Gabriela?’ Leon says, as he and Alice approach, interrupting their conversation.

Lori looks up at him wide-eyed. ‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘I was just telling Christine and Faith, I haven’t seen either of them for ages—’

‘So much for everyone staying together.’ Alice grabs a handful of her own hair and squeezes, water spilling to the floor.

‘Well I’m sorry, Alice.’ There’s firmness in Lori’s softly spoken American twang. ‘I didn’t realise I was left here to babysit.’ Her smooth cheeks flush pink. ‘And I might add, that they left me on my own. I’ve been in a terrible state ever since. It’s playing havoc with my asthma.’

‘Sorry.’ Alice unzips her sodden Parka, and removes it. ‘I didn’t mean to … This is all so awful. Sorry.’

‘It’s fine.’ Lori’s voice softens further. ‘We’re all very stressed out, and it’s not surprising. But please let’s try to support each other, shall we?’