‘We’ve no idea. We saw Christine tie it up. And from what I remember, she moored it pretty well,’ Leon says. ‘I’m surprised it worked its way loose, if I’m honest.’

‘We’re going to get changed into something dry,’ Alice says, turning to leave. ‘Then we’ll call someone to get us off the island.’

‘OK, well, if there’s anything I can do.’

‘There isn’t. But thanks.’

As they go to leave the room, Faith’s eyes drift to the TV screen. ‘Oh God,’ she whispers.

Alice’s eyes dart to the screen. ‘Jesus, that’s Tegan Matthews.’

Faith waves the remote towards the TV, turns up the volume. There’s a picture of Tegan behind a young newsreader, her stunning features and dark curly hair unmistakable.

‘Tegan Matthews,’ the newsreader is saying, ‘the literary agent who discovered E. H. Membrose, best-selling author of Where Doves Fly and Raging Fires, was found dead in her home earlier today. A friend raised the alarm after not hearing from Tegan for several days. Police are treating her death as suspicious.’

Alice’s heart hammers, as the newsreader switches to a story about storms hitting the UK’s eastern coastline. ‘This can’t be right. She can’t be dead. She can’t be.’ She hasn’t been a fan of Tegan since she deserted her after her father’s death. She even suspected her of telling the media that her father was E. H. Membrose, but to hear she’s dead is horrifying. Her chest tightens.

Faith moves towards Alice, puts her arm around her waist. ‘God, you’re shaking, lovely,’ she says. ‘You knew her well, didn’t you?’

‘I thought I did, at one point,’ Alice whispers. She turns to Leon, who is drained of colour. He looks as bewildered as she feels. ‘We have to go home,’ she says. ‘We need to call a boatyard on the mainland, or something. Get someone to come and take us off this bloody island.’ Alice pulls away from Faith, and races out of the TV lounge, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to get away. Leon is right behind her.

‘I’ll see you in the bar in a bit, yeah?’ Faith calls after them.

Alice doesn’t reply, her breath raspy as she leaps up the stairs two at a time, and heads along the corridor towards their room.

‘Are you OK?’ Leon says, catching up with her and grabbing her hand.

She stops, bats away the tears now streaming down her cheeks. ‘OK?’ she cries. ‘You did just hear Tegan’s dead, right?’ She hates that this is turning her into a crumbling wreck. ‘You did just see my dress on the rocks, when it should have been in my room?’

‘Yeah, I get the dress thing. It’s weird. But Tegan’s death has nothing to do with your dress.’