They nod and head outside, Sarah giving both Lorna and me a quick hug before she goes. Olive follows closely behind, still looking down at the floor.
By now Jack has his head in his hands, his shoulders crumpled. I search for something reassuring to say, but how can I possibly reassure him when I feel so terrified myself?
‘Why don’t you two stay here to be around in case anyone finds them?’ Lorna suggests gently. But Jack quickly pulls himself to his feet.
‘No, I’m going to come with you. I’m going to look for my daughter.’
Of course he is. We both are.
Lorna nods.
‘Shall we try the lighthouse cottage? It’s where I would have gone if I were them.’
‘Good idea,’ I say, pulling myself heavily to standing. ‘At least it’s dry there. Hopefully we’ll find them there and can give them a telling-off and then this will all be over.’
I picture them huddled inside the old cottage and something suddenly lifts inside me. It makes sense. It’s the most sheltered spot on the island but still remote, only reachable by a steep dirt track. But when we eventually reach the lighthouse, soaked by the rain that has now started to pour and whipped by the wind that tears at our clothes up here, they’re not there. The cottage is empty apart from a few planks of wood and a scattering of abandoned birds’ nests. I’d been so sure they’d be here and my heart sinks. I picture the two of them, my daughter and my niece, out there somewhere alone and cold in this driving rain.
‘Perhaps one of the other groups has found them already,’ I say tentatively, looking across at Jack who is still pale, his brow furrowed.
‘Yes, let’s head back to The Lookout,’ he says.
We take a last look along the clifftop but it’s exposed here so it would be impossible for Molly and Ella to hide. I stop myself from peering over the edge.
When we arrive back at The Lookout Sarah, Olive, Mallachy and Rex are waiting for us.
‘What’s going on?’ Jack asks, looking at the somewhat unlikely group. ‘Where are the others?’
‘We left Ben searching with my parents in the woods,’ Sarah says. ‘But Olive mentioned something that I thought you should know.’
Sarah places her hands on Olive’s shoulders and pushes her gently forward.
‘Come on, sweetie. It’s important you tell Jack and Alice what you told me.’
My heart thumps inside my chest.
Olive’s head is still bowed but now tears drip from her lashes down onto the toes of her wellies. Sarah tightens her grip slightly on her daughter’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.
‘I thought it was nothing,’ Olive says through her tears, but the way she wipes her face and catches a quick, gulping breath makes me freeze, my heart pounding in my throat. Whatever Olive is trying to say, it is clearly not nothing.
‘They were both obsessed about going to Caora Island. They’d been talking about it non-stop for days. Molly wanted to show Ella the abandoned crofts and to try to see the puffins …’
I glance across at Lorna and our eyes meet. I remember Ella and Molly asking us both if they could go with Mallachy, Lorna’s reluctance to say yes to Ella and how I felt I’d put my foot in it by agreeing more readily to Molly. Lorna looks away again, her cheeks colouring.
‘Molly always said that she thought she’d be able to survive over there, even though it’s been empty for years. And then the boat …’
Olive dissolves into sobs now. Sarah wraps her arms around her and kisses the top of her head.
‘What boat?’
Sarah looks up at me. She swallows, her lips tightly pressed together.
‘When Olive told us how much the girls had been talking about the island we decided to head down to the harbour. Ben’s boat is missing.’
‘Oh my god.’ I know Ben’s boat. It’s small, not something any islander would use to make the crossing to Caora Island, certainly not in this weather. Down at the harbour the waves smack against the jetty, the sky above an angry grey. Rain falls in a sheet. This can’t be happening. Lorna holds a hand up to her mouth and Jack stands stiff at my side.
‘My little girl,’ I cry out, unable to hold it together any longer. ‘What are we going to do? Should we call the coastguard?’
Mallachy steps forward. Before he can speak I understand suddenly why he is here. It seems Jack does too because he looks at him and says, ‘Your boat. Do you think you can manage the crossing in this weather?’
