‘And then, that terrible morning – on the beach – and we discovered that she had been dead all that time – all that time.’ Her skin was ashen. ‘And even after that, when we knew she had perished, I could not bring myself to acknowledge that she had returned.’

I shivered.

‘What does she want?’ I whispered.

Mrs Lenister frowned. ‘Want?’

I turned away. The thin light brushed the walls. ‘When I was on the ridge. I was pushed. I heard her. I felt her and I was pushed by her.’

Mrs Lenister flushed, rested a hand on my arm. ‘Don’t let it carry you away, Miss Swansome. What are ghosts, after all? Just air.’ But there was something in her eyes that made me think she did not entirely believe her own statement.

‘Since my arrival,’ I said, ‘someone has come by my room nearly every night and hummed a lullaby. At the beginning, I believed it was Greer as she turned down the lamps. I would hear her approach from the main hall and when she reached my room she stopped and waited there.’

‘It was Hettie?’

‘It was not someone living.’

Her face fell.

And so quietly, like a whisper, I hummed it, and in my voice for an instant I heard the dusty timbre of hers.

Mrs Lenister paled at its melody.

‘You recognize it, don’t you?’

She nodded slowly, then turned and went to the window. ‘I heard it only once. Not long before Hettie died, a baby fell ill. I went to help. Just a wee thing it was, not a day old. Hettie was already there when I arrived. She had the child in her arms. She was singing that tune.’

‘What is it?’ I said. ‘What is the song?’

She shrugged. ‘Some tune from England. I had never heard it before. She was a wicked, complicated girl but there was something about her that day. Gentle, I thought.’ Her eyes were sad. ‘I thought – I don’t know – she held the baby, like it was her own.’

She collected the tray. At the door she paused. ‘I do not believe that Hettie has the power to harm you. I hope you don’t leave, Miss Swansome. You are good for Mary, but you should take care. The island knows that you have questions – questions nobody wants to hear. Remember what I said about Greer. If you really were pushed you should look to the living and not the dead.’ And with a bob, she moved out of the door.

34

Gradually, I returned to full health, but it was slow and the knowledge of the danger to Mary weighed heavier even than Hettie’s dead step or the sound of the whistle. Hettie came when she chose; I could not stop her. Most nights, I would lie beside Mary in the grip of horror until, after a pause outside Mary’s door, her steps and melody drifted away.