The rain is coming down faster now, wetting my nose and cheeks, and by the time we get to the cottage my hair is dripping. I switch off the engine and go to help Tom, but he’s already out of the trailer and heading for the front door. Picking up the bags, I follow him as he limps down the hall.

The kitchen is empty, the house silent. I walk to the bottom of the stairs and call up.

‘Mum?’

No answer.

I turn to Tom. ‘Do you think she’s started the ritual already?’

He flicks his hair and frowns, but says nothing. I hurry back along the hallway and he shouts after me. ‘She told you to stay away, Ivy!’

Ignoring him, I open the front door. The rain is beating down at an angle, bouncing up from the gravel track and making it hard to see in the murky red twilight. My mum is heading towards the lighthouse. She must have seen us arrive and hidden from us, but why?

‘Wait!’

She pauses a moment and then quickens her pace.

I chase after her, my feet splashing in puddles. I know she can hear me, so why doesn’t she turn around? She opens the door and slips inside, just as I reach it.

‘Mum?’

I hear the sound of a bolt being drawn and then she sighs. ‘Please, Ivy, it’s not safe. Go back to the house.’

Tom is standing under the porch, sheltering from the rain. He gestures for me to come inside but I can’t let my mum do this by herself. I throw my shoulder against the wood but it barely moves. And then I remember the boarded-up door with its strange symbols.

I dash through the rain and run past Tom. He follows me into the kitchen and watches as I frantically snatch open cupboards and drawers. Eventually I find what I’m looking for under the sink: a hammer with a claw. I run to the bottom of the stairs and go to work on the door. There are so many nails, it will take ages.

‘Please, Tom, can you help?’

He hobbles over and stands in my path. ‘Your mum told you to stay away from the lighthouse! You saw what happened to the boatman. What if more of those shadow things appear?’

I shove him aside. ‘Fine, I’ll do it myself.’

I tug at one of the wooden boards fixed diagonally across the door. It won’t budge. I haven’t pulled out enough nails. I lever out more but it still doesn’t move.

‘Damn it!’

I try again and Tom grips my shoulder. ‘Will you just stop, please?’

‘No. Either help me or get out of my way.’