We make it to the top of the cliff as darkness really starts to fall. Panting, I throw down the wood and Liam kneels and takes his load out of the bag. I can barely make him out now in the fuzzy light, as he starts to build a tepee, carefully arranging the pieces of wood so they’ll catch and burn brightly. Once he’s finished, the bonfire he’s made is about three feet high.

I glance out across the loch, shielding my eyes with my hands against the rain. In the far distance I can just make out a few glowing amber lights that must be Arduaine, the place that we took the boat over from. What are the chances someone will see the fire from all the way over there? And then what are the chances they will think it’s anything other than a bonfire? Why would they assume it’s a signal fire or an SOS?

The rain falls heavier, the wind whipping it into my face. I start to shiver and look at the stack of wood and the bonfire Liam has built. It’s getting wet.

Liam is searching through his bag, frantically. ‘Where are the firelighters?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know. I thought you had them.’

He shakes his head. ‘I put them in here,’ he says, gesturing at the bag and then hunting through his pockets. ‘At least I thought I did. Damn. Shit.’ He swears loudly and then, unable to find them, he gives up and pulls a cigarette lighter out of his pocket. He clicks it and a tiny flame appears which he cups his hand around to protect from the wind. He tries to set it to the wood pile but the wood refuses to light. It’s too wet.

Cursing some more, Liam pockets the lighter and rummages again through the bag. He pulls out the map of the island and I wonder for a moment what he’s doing but then he sets the lighter to the corner of it and the map bursts into flame. Quickly, Liam shoves the flaming paper into the centre of the bonfire; he fans the flames desperately as I stand huddling close in order to feel the meagre heat.

Eventually the map catches on a piece of dryer tinder inside the stacked tepee and ignites. It’s a feeble fire though, coughing out smoke and hissing in protest, the rain doing its best to fight it into submission. I glance once more out across the Loch toward Arduaine. I imagine one of the faint pinpricks of light is the pub – but no one will be out in this weather, so what are the chances they’ll notice this tiny dot of fire in the distance on Shura?