“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know.”

He looks at me for several seconds then nods, as though satisfied with my answer. “Let’s go and find Al.”

We keep to the perimeter, walking single file along the fence.

“If anyone sees us” – Johan pauses to look back at me – “we tell them we’re on patrol. If they insinuate we just slept together in one of the huts, we play along with it. Okay?”

I nod. The palm of my hand is burning and blistering from the fire. I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to.

We move quickly as we head up towards the house. Johan strolls ahead, swinging his arms, his head up. He glances over towards the patio as we pass the party, but I keep my own gaze firmly fixed on his back.

Act natural.

Someone screams and my heart jolts with fear, but the sound is followed by the sound of laughter and Paula swearing loudly. Johan doesn’t so much as twitch. Instead, he continues his even-paced march along the curve of the fence past the main gates and around the log pile then turns sharply and slips into the shadows by the side of the house. He draws to a halt underneath the window of Isaac’s study then glances back to check I’m still with him.

“Okay?” he mouths, and I stand beside him, my back pressed against the wall, my heart pounding in my chest.

He doesn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he gestures upwards with his index finger. The main study window is closed but the smaller window above it is open. It’s eight feet up and the opening is tiny, but it’s a way in. It’s the only way in.

Johan interlinks his fingers, arms straight, and nods at me then the window.

“Is Al in there?” I whisper.

He nods then gestures for me to put my foot in his hands. I slip off my flip-flops, put my hands on his shoulders and place my foot in his interlocked fingers. He nods.

One.

Two.

Three.

I’m launched into the air.

I reach for the window and fasten my fingers over the sill. There’s a grunt below me as Johan rearranges his grip on my right foot and pushes. My body jolts upwards a couple of inches, but it’s not enough for me to hook an arm over the window. I’m still too far away.

“Put your left foot on my head,” Johan hisses. “Use me as a step.”

He heaves me up again and my left leg waves wildly in the air as I search for traction. It connects with something solid then slides away. Johan swears under his breath.

“The next time I push, you need to pull, Emma. Pull yourself into the window. Ready? One, two, three.”