The Northern Lighthouse Board officially concluded that the two men must have been swept out to sea by a storm. But why would keepers of their experience head outside during such inclement weather in the first place? And without their boots and waterproof coats? And why were the final pages of their logbooks filled with such peculiar reports?

Both men had made entries detailing how the other had been behaving strangely. In addition, Abernathy reported hearing odd sounds coming from within the lighthouse itself – tapping, and knocking, and scratching at the walls…

The mystery persists to this day. Although no further keepers have vanished from the island, the lighthouse at Bird Rock certainly seems a fated and unfortunate place. Many 21of the subsequent keepers asked for transfers or were removed to asylums, unable to cope with the isolation, the fog and the thousands of birds.

We will never know what truly happened to those first keepers over two hundred years ago, but some say they’re still there. That they never left and are still committed to doing their duty, even in death, manning the light to warn passing ships away from whatever danger lies at the heart of Bird Rock.

“I’m going to be rich!” Rosie exclaimed gleefully, as I handed the phone back. “I just need one photo of a ghost in the lighthouse, and I’m bound to win that competition!”

It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about, but then I remembered the photography competition she’d been fixated on for days. It had been set up by the Society for Paranormal Research, or something like that – one of those weird groups she followed – and invited participants to submit haunted photos. Apparently, the winner would be awarded a £1,000 cash prize.

“It’ll be pretty tricky capturing a ghost on film,” I said, turning back to my packing. “Seeing as there’s 22no such thing. You’ll have to create another one of your fakes.”

Rosie had become pretty good at trick photography recently and knew how to make all kinds of special effects with her cameras.

“Well, you can look at the stars while I look for ghosts,” Rosie said. “And then we’ll both be happy.”

“Awesome,” I replied. “Now would you mind getting out of the way? I’m trying to finish packing.”

“You should have done it last night like Mum told you to,” Rosie said, poking her tongue out at me and then scooting from the room before I could whack her with a pillow.