Finally I heard my family’s breathing deepen one by one around me and was pretty sure they were asleep. I gave it another half an hour, just to be sure, before deciding I couldn’t wait any longer. With my heart beating wildly, I crept across to the bothy’s entrance and began carefully removing the items we’d packed into the doorway. When I first looked outside, I realized that another thick fog had rolled in, which perhaps explained why everything had such a silent, smothered feel. It would almost have been better if the birds had been shrieking. At least then there’d have been some noise. As it was, every scuffle and scrape I made seemed amplified in the dark.

When I had created a hole big enough to crawl out, I began to squeeze my way through. I’d almost made it when a hand clamped down suddenly on my ankle. I bit back a yelp and turned round to see Charlie, his face white as he stared at me, his small hand still clutching my leg.

“Don’t go out there, Jess,” he said quietly. 285

I winced and shushed him. “Go back to sleep,” I whispered. “I’ll be right back – I’m just going to use the outhouse.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going back to the lighthouse.”

I sighed and scooted a little closer to him. “I have to go,” I said. “I left something important there.”

Charlie’s face crumpled and tears filled his eyes. “You’ll vanish,” he said. “You’ll vanish too.”

He reached for my hand, and his little fingers were clammy in mine as he gripped tightly and began to talk rapidly and earnestly.

It’s impossible to recall now exactly what he told me, but I remember saying, “Yes, I promise. Now go back to sleep. And don’t tell Dad or your mum where I’ve gone, OK?”

Charlie nodded, suddenly seeming to accept that I was going. He crawled back to his sleeping bag and I quickly blocked up the entrance again before scrambling to my feet. It was a very thick fog, almost as bad as the one that had swept in the night Rosie went missing. Still, fog seemed pretty tame to me now compared to all the other things I’d witnessed on this island, so I straightened my shoulders and set 286off. There was no sign of Will, either in the camp or the path leading away from it, and I couldn’t work out if I was relieved or disappointed. Probably a bit of both.