Lily is doing her best to calm Harry down. An hour has passed since Kitto left, but he’s pacing the floor of his room, refusing to get back into bed.
‘They’re after me, Lily, I heard what Kitto said. I should go to the mainland and start over.’
‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘He won’t believe anything I say, with my track record, and he knows Dad’s doing time. I’ll take the boat tonight.’
‘You can’t cross forty kilometres of rough sea in a tiny speedboat.’
‘It’s my best chance.’
She leans forward to touch his arm. ‘Why are you so afraid?’
‘I didn’t deserve Sabine.’ There’s a look of shame on his face. ‘I was too drunk to protect her.’
‘Stop punishing yourself.’ She gives a frustrated sigh. ‘Tell me who hurt you.’
‘I don’t know. He put a hood over my head, then kicked me senseless. I thought I was going to die. He’d gone by the time I came round.’
‘You’re not going anywhere tonight. You need to rest.’
Harry gives in at last, finally returning to bed. Lily is so exhausted by worry, she falls into a dreamless sleep once her own head touches the pillow, but silence wakes her in the middle of the night. She can always hear her brother through the wall, shifting in his sleep, but now there’s only the distant sound of waves retreating from the shore. When she throws back her duvet, Harry’s room is empty. Instinct makes her pull on jeans and a T-shirt before going downstairs. Her brother has left the house, his blue hoodie missing from the coat stand.
She peers out of the front door at the empty street, the houses opposite in darkness. He may have gone looking for late-night drinking companions. It’s only when she retreats inside that she spots a manila envelope on the hall table, bearing Harry’s name. It’s been opened already, another Polaroid photo dropping into her hand; a woman’s terrified face stares back at her. Why has someone sent Harry a picture like the one of Sabine just before she died? Maybe he got in the killer’s way and now he’s being targeted.
Lily covers her mouth with her hand to stop herself crying out. A few words are scribbled on the back, but she can’t concentrate well enough to read them. She shoves the photo back into the envelope then puts on trainers and rushes outside. She drops the envelope into the dustbin as a car engine further down the street chugs into life. All that matters is finding her brother before it’s too late. He must have gone to his boat after all, so desperate to escape he’d risk a dangerous crossing. She sets off at a rapid pace, running to the outskirts of Hugh Town, where the streetlights end. Lily wishes she’d brought a torch, but at least the moon will guide her search.
She’s out of breath by the time she reaches Porthloo Beach. Relief overtakes her at the sight of the speedboat, beached on the sand, and fragments of starlight littered across the ocean’s surface. He can’t sail anywhere until the tide rises again. The sea whispers to her as waves greet the shore, as quiet as a lullaby. She shouldn’t have panicked. He’s probably with one of his mates, making drunken jokes about his overprotective kid sister. She’s still relaxed when a hand settles on her shoulder. The touch is gentle and familiar, her fear lifting at last.
‘You gave me a scare, Harry.’
But when she swings round a figure in dark clothes stands there, his face hidden by shadows. She tries to run, but blows rain down on her ribs and back. Lily is only half conscious when her body is dragged across the sand. She sees a last glint of moonlight, before being pushed into a car boot, head first, too weak to scream when the lid slams down.