A collective sigh of relief echoes through the cottage, as Faith taps the phone keypad set in a panel resembling a dial. She waits for a moment, biting her lip. ‘Hello, my name is Faith Evans. I’m a guest at Flynn Hotel on Seafield Island, just off the coast of Dunwold.’ Her voice wobbles, her eyes darting from Alice to Leon to Christine. ‘We’re cut off from the mainland, and need police here urgently. Some people have been murdered … Dane and Savannah Winslow. They are, were, guests at the hotel … There are seven of us … maybe eight; we can’t be sure.’ Her voice cracks at the mention of the invisible Cameron. She listens for a moment. ‘I really don’t know.’ She gulps back tears, drags the back of her hand across her nose. ‘Yes, yes we will. Thank you. OK. Yes.’ She hangs up the phone, and drops down on the sofa. ‘They’re sending help.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ Alice says, propping the picture against the wall. Leon moves closer to her, takes her in his arms. He’s relieved when she rests her head against his chest. That she lets him hold her. Her thundering heartbeat telling him she’s far from OK.

‘They said we’re to stay together until they arrive,’ Faith says. ‘So we should probably head back to the hotel and wait.’ A crash of thunder rattles the house, and heavy rain follows, splattering the window.

Faith gets to her feet and heads towards the door, ‘The sooner the better,’ she says.

Chapter 27

1990

Verity

The birth of the now chubby-limbed infant with bright blue eyes and a tiny rosebud mouth – a beautiful creature so totally helpless and dependent on Verity – evoked feelings that had confused Verity at first. But now, six months after the baby’s birth, she was aware that this love – this feeling – was as intense as the love she’d always felt for her brother. It was a protective kind of love, an unbreakable love. She knew, even then, she would do anything for this child. That she would never let her go.

*

Over the months, Hugh hadn’t wanted to see Verity or his baby, so when he called, quite out of the blue, and asked her to bring his daughter to the cottage, Verity had felt a surge of happiness.

She bundled the baby into her little white coat, and pulled up the fur-trimmed hood. ‘You are so beautiful, my precious girl,’ she said, kissing the child’s tiny hands.