Rosie seemed thoroughly delighted and was already reaching for her phone. “This is perfect!” she exclaimed, snapping a picture.

“Shouldn’t you be using your digital camera?” I asked. “Surely a ghost would be much easier to photoshop in later that way?”

Rosie stuck her tongue out at me. “It came out all blurry anyway.”

I glanced at her screen and got a brief glimpse of the lighthouse photo before Rosie pressed delete.

“Let’s go and take a look,” I said, very much hoping it was better inside.

We walked over to the front door and pushed it open.

37

Chapter Three

Watery sunlight filtered through the windows of a large entrance hall with wooden floorboards. We could see doors leading off to other rooms, and there was a spiral staircase over to the left, which I guessed must lead up into the lighthouse itself. Beneath the ever-present bird smell, I could detect salt, damp and woodsmoke. A lone fly droned loudly somewhere up near the ceiling.

A large wooden table on the opposite wall took up much of the room, and there was a clutter of rulers, callipers, notebooks and various other ornithologist’s equipment spread across it. There was also a letter propped against a lantern. Rosie walked over to pick it up, and I went to peer over her shoulder. I knew at once that the handwriting wasn’t Dad’s, which 38meant that it must be Kate’s.

Dear Rosie and Jess,

Welcome to Bird Rock! I hope you had a pleasant journey and are excited to settle into your new home! We’re certainly delighted to have you here. Depending on what time you arrive, you hopefully won’t have too long to wait until we return from our birdwatching, but in the meantime please explore the lighthouse – it’s quite fascinating. There’s some food in the fridge for lunch – do help yourselves.

We look forward to seeing you soon.

Lots of love,

Kate, Dad and Charlie xxxx

I wrinkled my nose. It still rankled that Dad had another family. One he seemed to prefer to us. One he saw every day rather than for a few miserable weeks out of the year. He’d visited more regularly back when Rosie had been ill, but now we just saw him in the summer holidays. Part of me wondered whether he’d even remembered we were coming today, or if Kate had had to remind him about all the practical stuff – writing notes, making up beds, 39leaving lunch.