‘Well the first rule is,’ Leon begins, ‘we stay together.’

‘Leon’s right,’ Faith agrees, looking up at him as he continues to pace. ‘I’ve seen enough scary movies to know splitting up gets us killed.’

A stab of fear pierces Alice’s heart. ‘Oh God, please don’t say that.’ A tear rolls down her cheek. ‘This is too much.’

Leon crouches down by her side, and takes her hand, laces his fingers with hers. Their eyes meet. ‘We’ll be OK, Alice,’ he says, pushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. She wishes she could believe his words.

Faith gets up as though something has struck her. ‘Talking of going off on our own. Where’s Mitch?’ She walks towards the French doors, and looks out. ‘He was out there earlier having a ciggie, wasn’t he?’ She opens the door. The wind takes it from her hand and it jerks back on its hinges, bangs hard against the wall. ‘Mitch!’ she calls. ‘Mitch, are you out there?’ She turns back, looks at the others, wide-eyed.

‘Boo!’ He appears behind her, and grabs her shoulders with heavy hands.

Faith screams, clasping her chest. She shrugs his hands away, a flash of anger in her eyes. ‘What the hell did you do that for?’

‘You’re edgy, babe.’ He lumbers into the bar, and approaches the table looking windswept, and bringing with him a waft of cigarette smoke. ‘What’s up with you lot? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘It’s Dane and Savannah Winslow … They’re dead.’ Alice doesn’t meet his eye, is surprised how calm her voice sounds. ‘Murdered.’

‘The Winslows?’ He scans the gathering. ‘Christ! Is this true?’

Everyone nods.

‘Where? How? Have you called the police?’

‘We can’t,’ Alice says. ‘The landline is down, and everyone’s phones have gone missing.’

He looks towards the window. It’s the first time Alice has seen him lost for words, a flash of fear on his normally arrogant face.

‘I’ve been thinking. I reckon our only hope is the cottage,’ Lori says, returning with the bottle of brandy, and still sounding breathless. She sits down and splashes some of the amber liquid into her glass and Leon’s. ‘Whoever took our phones must be here – in this house.’ Her frightened eyes skitter across the bar. ‘Surely, whoever it is, they wouldn’t have thought to take Cameron’s phone.’

Leon nods. ‘Good point.’

‘Unless the killer is Cameron,’ Christine says. ‘We can’t rule that out.’

‘Yes, but there may even be a landline over there,’ Faith says, pushing back her fringe.

‘If we head over there together, we’ll be safe,’ Lori goes on, picking up the glass, and taking a swig of her drink.

‘Sounds like a good plan. I’m up for going to the cottage,’ Leon says.

‘Me too.’ Faith rises. ‘Alice?’

‘OK.’ Alice reluctantly rises.