I was glad to leave the bathroom and return to our bedroom where Rosie was still tinkering with her crystals, rearranging them on the windowsill. I automatically reached for my phone before remembering I wouldn’t be able to scroll through anything without getting online. So I took out the drawing Charlie had given us instead. Now that I looked at it more closely, I realized that there was something odd about it. The stick-people family ought to have goofy smiles on their wonky faces, but instead every one of us had a big, miserable frowny face, as if we all hated being at the lighthouse. Or hated being with each other. Or perhaps hated something that we didn’t even know was happening to us just yet.

Not only that but for the first time I noticed there was a sixth person in the drawing. A blurry face peered out from the window right at the very top of the lighthouse. I wondered why Charlie had added it.

“Have you finished faffing around with those crystals yet?” I asked, putting the weird drawing 60aside. “We should find Charlie and go for this walk.”

“Do you think there might be a lighthouse keeper’s uniform around here?” Rosie asked, as she slung her camera strap over her neck. “I could make Dad dress up in it and pose him next to that cross beside the lighthouse, with the sea in the background. It would be perfect for the competition.”

“A bit obvious, though, don’t you think?” I asked. “Surely no one would fall for that?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Rosie said, looking thoughtful. “Perhaps something a bit more subtle is better.”

She came to join me, and we went to Charlie’s bedroom. The door was open, and we could see his stuff scattered everywhere – comics, toys, clothes and books, all thrown into random corners. There was so much of it that it looked like two boys were staying here rather than only one. Rosie raised her camera and snapped a picture. Charlie had been leaning over a small glass tank in one corner, but when he heard the camera go off he immediately darted over to grab us by the hand and drag us across the room.

“Come and meet my snails!” he said excitedly. 61“I’ve got six. I found them on the island, and Mummy says I can keep them while we’re here as long as I’m really careful to look after them properly, and be gentle, and promise to set them free when it’s time to go home.”

He pointed into the tank where six little snails were nestled among various twigs and leaves. “This one is Turbo because he’s the fastest,” he said. “And the others are Rocko, Brian, Winston, Eric and Matilda.”

He looked up at us, beaming.

“Great,” I managed to say.

“Do you want to have a picnic with my snails?”