‘Who else knows about this?’ Liam had asked.

‘Just you and me. And the divers, of course.’

‘Good.’ There was an air of finality about the way he said it. ‘I’m going to jump online now and check for flights. I probably can’t leave until the day after tomorrow – I have a meeting with the vice-chancellor tomorrow afternoon and it’s one of those in-person-only deals, I’m afraid. Sound okay?’

‘Sure. I can hold the fort until you arrive. What’s the meeting about?’

‘Oh, nothing important. I won’t bore you with the details. I’ll wait until we’re standing on some suitably desolate beach on windy old Texel to do that. I may have to drop some clues so that Glasgow School of Art will give me some funds to hire a lab. I won’t tell them the specifics. I’ll just say I’ve stumbled across something totally unique and extremely important.’

‘Great. Just don’t forget it’s a partnership. We’ll share the scholarship, yes?’

There was no answer.

‘Liam? Hello?’ My words echoed like stones thrown down a well.

The line went dead and I assumed Liam’s connection had dropped out. I should have known, then, what was coming. But I was still floating somewhere above the real world, intoxicated by the glorious potential of Bram’s discovery. I’d forgotten the cautionary tale of Icarus in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, the way the wax in his wings melted and the feathers swirled in snowy clumps towards the waves as he fell. I didn’t realise then how dangerously close I’d drifted to the sun.

Through the ferry’s windows silhouetted against the morning sun, I could see the outline of Texel’s gravel dykes, the green hills rising above the jutting timber buildings that formed the marina. It hadn’t changed much in all the years I’d been away. A few restaurants were plastered with large ‘Open until winter’ signs and a stand promoting day trips to the outlying islands was splashed with posters of frolicking seals and airborne terns. A small knot of people were waiting on the marina for the ferry to dock. I grabbed my bag and headed for the exit.