She doesn’t answer and I raise my voice. ‘Tom’s leaving now. I was going to walk with him to the harbour and then come back.’

She scrambles to her feet and rushes past me, muttering something about needing to find a book. I’ve no idea what ‘closing the portal’ involves, but I’m not letting her do it alone if it’s going to be dangerous. I follow her into the hallway and call out as she runs up the stairs. ‘Do you want me to stay?’

She clutches the banister and hangs her head. ‘No, it’s better if you go. I need to start the ritual as soon as it gets dark. There’s a lot to prepare, I need to concentrate.’ She hurries off to her bedroom and I stare at the floor, my shoulders slumped. I was hoping we could spend some time together and get to know each other properly, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. Maybe I should just let her get on with things. I’ll easily be back before nightfall.

Tom appears and hands me my bag. ‘You OK, Shorty?’

The pity in his eyes makes me want to crumple. ‘Yeah, just give me a minute.’

I dive into the bathroom, taking a moment to splash my face with cold water before joining him in the hallway. He shifts his weight impatiently as I open the front door. The world outside has been obliterated, the surrounding buildings hidden by a thick white mist. We step into the chilly vapour and I crane my neck upwards. The tower is obscured by fog, the lantern the only thing visible: a floating glass eye with a Cyclops stare.

Tom readjusts the bags on his shoulder and sets a brisk pace, seemingly keen to put the place behind him. The sun is feeble and bloated above us, a poached egg hanging in a milk-white sky. Apart from the distant crash of waves, it’s eerily quiet. No gulls crying and wheeling overhead and no wind tugging at our clothes and battering our ears. The mist has thrown a heavy blanket over everything, dampening the colours and sounds. It sits on my lungs and gets in my hair, the saltwater so thick I can taste it.

I look towards the sea, hoping to get my bearings, but there’s no line to mark the horizon, just a vague blur where one band of pale blue merges into another. Not being able to see the cliff edge is unnerving and I’m glad we have the track to follow. After ten minutes or so, Tom points up ahead. ‘Is that the village?’

I squint, but I can’t see anything apart from the outline of the mountain in the distance.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to come back with me?’ he asks.

‘I can’t leave her, Tom, not when she’s like this.’