“What about the rest of the lighthouse?” Rosie asked. She gestured to where the spiral staircase continued up to a trapdoor above us. 57

“Oh, it’s just some maintenance rooms up there,” Dad said. “And the lantern room itself, of course. It’s all off limits. The trapdoor’s chained up. That part hasn’t been restored yet, so it’s probably not safe. We’ll give you some time to get settled in. Kate and I have got a few things to finish up this afternoon, so perhaps you might like to explore the island a bit before it gets dark? Maybe take Charlie with you. Get to know each other.”

Dad went back downstairs without waiting for a response. Since there was no wardrobe or other storage, it seemed a bit pointless unpacking, but Rosie wanted to get out the crystals she’d brought with her.

“They need cleansing in the sun or moonlight,” she said, carefully lining them up on the windowsill. “To recharge their energy.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and went to freshen up in the bathroom. It was an odd space, built into the turret of the lighthouse itself, so the walls were spherical. I’d never been in a perfectly circular room before, and the effect was weirdly unsettling – it felt unnatural for there to be no corners. The windows were tiny and dirty, meaning I had to turn 58the light on even though it was the middle of the day. Big, exposed copper pipes ran along the ceiling, and there was a shower, toilet, bathtub and small basin. I cringed at the sight of the bath. It was rusty and there were little dead bugs in it. I’d definitely be using the shower.

The mirror above the sink was ancient looking, as if it had been in the lighthouse a really long time. Its square corners looked odd against the curved walls, and the glass was so distorted by age that I could hardly make out my reflection – everything appeared warped and out of focus. Surely that was why – just for a moment – it suddenly looked as if the mirror was filled with hands. Dozens and dozens of them, pressing up against one another, their fingers pale against the glass. I blinked, and the hands melted away into smears and scuffs instead. An odd optical illusion but still – it made me catch my breath. Probably thanks to Rosie and all her talk of ghosts.

I shook my head and splashed some water on my face, wincing at how grimy and dirty the taps felt. When I flushed the toilet, the pipes overhead made such a loud noise that I actually jumped. I knew it 59was just the water rushing through them, but for a moment it really sounded like a person groaning…