Planes roared across the sky as Mrs Baron pushed the white cloth into my face.
It smelt like strong alcohol, or something you’d use to clean a kitchen sink. I gulped in a quick breath of clean air and tried to duck out of the way, wriggling back in my chair, but then I heard something – footsteps on the lighthouse stairs, a shout. Mrs Baron twisted towards the noise and I shoved her hard with both hands. She fell heavily, dropping the cloth and the glass bottle which shattered on the floor.
‘You’re not going to stop me,’ she screamed, scrabbling to get up, and I saw her reach for the heavy iron handle that cranks up the optic. ‘You stupid little girl! You pathetic little mouse!’ As she lurched towards me, raising the crank above her head, a figure plunged into the lantern room and hurled itself at her. It took just a moment for me to recognize my brilliant, heroic sister. Mags tackled the shrieking woman, trying to wrestle the crank handle from her. Mrs Baron caught her hard on the chin with it, but Mags wrapped herself around Mrs Baron’s back and clung on like a limpet, stopping her from getting back on to her feet.
Light blasted around us and the sound of engines in the sky was almost deafening, but I wasn’t afraid any more. I was full of fire now – this monster had taken so much from me already, I wasn’t going to let her destroy me or my sister or our Castle. I launched myself out of the chair and landed heavily, driving all the breath from my body. Gasping, clawing, I hauled myself across the floor. I pushed myself up with one hand, and with the other I snatched at the lever of the lamp and shoved it upwards.
The darkness rushed back around us, thick as a swarm of bees.
There was a violent scraping noise, a thud and a cry of pain.
‘Mags!’
Then footsteps down the staircase – quick and light.
Mrs Baron was getting away!
There were scuffling screams on the steps. Then a familiar voice: ‘She got past me – I’m going after her.’ It was Pinstripe! So I had heard his dry little cough. ‘Sergeant! Get up there and help the girls,’ he shouted. Within seconds, a young policeman appeared, wearing a muddy uniform and holding a torch. ‘Can I help you, miss?’ he said, bending over me.
‘No,’ I said, ‘help Mags – help my sister.’
The beam of his torch picked out the lump that lay on the floor – perfectly still.
‘Is she all right?’
‘I think so,’ he said. ‘Unconscious, though. I’ll take her down to the kitchen, then I’ll come back for you.’
He was down the stairs with Mags in his arms and back again for me within a minute.
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘There’s something I need to do first.’ I had been listening to the soft whirring of the optic. It was growing fainter and fainter . . . and then it stopped. Mrs Baron hadn’t turned the handle for long enough.
I strained up from the floor one last time. I reached for the lever, and pulled it down hard.
Blinding light pierced the darkness, blasting out towards the sea in one fixed, steady beam.
‘Miss!’ the policeman exclaimed. ‘You can’t do that! The blackout! There are planes . . .’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘But right now this is more important. There’s a German U-boat out there in the Channel, and this is the signal for them to abandon the landing.’
‘You need to use the telephone in the service room downstairs, Sergeant – contact the Admiralty straight away.’