I recalled that last morning with Clara, how the wind had carried the spring’s scents through the open window and into the parlour. How we had planned our new dresses and counted how many coins we would have spare for some good meat. I had turned to pick up my pencil and continue my list when Clara had placed her hand over mine.

‘Thank you,’ she said and there had been a look of such earnest gratitude that my eyes had filled.

‘Don’t be silly, Clara, it is only what you would do for me.’

‘I would do anything for you, Elspeth, if I could,’ and she reached into her pocket and passed me something, clumsily swaddled in brown paper.

‘What is this?’ I said.

Her love laid itself over my heart and my eyes burned as I fumbled with the wrapping.

‘So that we shall always be together.’

I opened the locket and there, forever held in silver, were our two images.

When it was time, I tiptoed into the hall where the dusky smell of lamps bloomed on the air and I woke Mary from her bed. She asked no questions but let me help her dress and it was only as I handed her Bobbity and she noticed my case by the door that I told her of what was planned.

Our feet were loud on the pebbles, and as we rounded the bay the smell of pine hung in the air like a final song. Somewhere above us an owl’s call shivered through the night. As we approached the north beaches, cloud began to pass across the moon and I crouched in the shadow of the cliffs and lit our lantern. The tide was coming up and licking at the silty sand, but there was little noise save our boots and laboured breath. Mary, who had hold of my hand, stopped, pulling me sharply to a halt.

‘Hurry,’ I said, ‘we don’t have time.’

‘I’m scared,’ she said.

I put down my case and bent and kissed her forehead. ‘I’m scared too.’

We had reached the end of the strand and were climbing on the rocky plateau towards the caves. Above us, gulls fluttered and cawed gently from their roosts. My arm grew sore and I swapped the case for the other hand. Finally, we were on shingle once more and Bridget was ahead, wrapped in a scarf and heavy coat. My heart let go of its fears and I ran to her.

‘Quick,’ she said. ‘Hurry,’ and I followed her to the little boat pulled half up on the sand.

‘Take care here, take care. I had to row it round, so as not to be seen. The bigger boat is behind the point.’

I glanced at Mary, at her liquid eyes. ‘It’ll be all right, Mary. Soon we’ll be safe.’