She looked from one to the other and her face fell. ‘You didn’t get there, did you,’ she said in a small voice. She sat down abruptly.

Roger sank down beside her and took her hand. He shook his head. ‘The car’s gone, Di. It’s been stolen.’ He leaned back and closed his eyes.

‘So he was here. Right here outside this house.’ Her eyes went to the curtained window near her. She closed them weakly, slumping against Roger’s shoulder. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘Nothing. Not tonight.’ Roger was suddenly so tired he could hardly speak. ‘We’ll just have to pray that Greg and Kate are together and safe. Greg will look after her…’

His voice trailed away as he thought suddenly about Bill. Bill was a man; a big man and he had not been safe.

‘It will help no one if we go searching for them in the dark. Far better to keep ourselves safe here until daylight. We’ll check again that all the windows and doors are locked and wait it out. There is nothing else we can do.’

‘I’ll check, Dad.’ Patrick had been standing looking down at his parents. He fought off the wave of fear which had been building inside him as he realised suddenly and completely that they were as helpless and afraid as he was; that for the first time that he could remember they were not going to be able to bail him or themselves out of the situation.

His father looked up at him and their eyes met. ‘It’ll be OK.’ Roger gave a wan smile. ‘We’ll sort it all out in daylight.’

‘Sure, Dad.’ Patrick turned towards the stairs. Then he stopped. ‘Greg’s going to be all right, isn’t he?’

‘A great big chap like Greg? Of course he is.’

‘But he wasn’t in the cottage.’

‘I expect they were looking for Allie.’

‘And he doesn’t know she’s safe.’ Patrick’s voice rose unsteadily. ‘They’ll go on looking, Dad. Greg won’t give up.’

‘They’ll be all right, Paddy.’ Diana forced herself to stand up. ‘Greg is not a fool. He’ll realise there is nothing he can do in this weather. He and Kate will go back to the cottage or they’ll come here. Now you go upstairs and check everything’s all right, while I put the kettle on. Don’t wake Allie, but double check her window too.’

She watched her younger son nod and turn away. Then she glanced down at her husband. His face was grey, his eyes shut. Miserably she pulled the rug from the back of the chair where she had folded it that morning – yesterday morning, she corrected herself as she glanced at her watch – and she tucked it round him, then she went to the Aga and slid the kettle onto the hotplate.

XLV

Kate stopped the Land Rover and closed her eyes. There was no sign of him. She had driven up and down the beach three times slowly, edging the vehicle closer and closer to the water’s edge, taking it as far to the north as she dared, far beyond the area where they had walked. He must have wandered up into the dunes where, she knew, she did not dare to try and drive. All she could do was go back slowly, further from the tideline this time, hoping he had seen her lights and was even now trying to drag himself towards them.

Cautiously she let in the clutch, turning this time towards the sea for one last sweep of the boiling waves with the headlights. It was then she saw him. He was kneeling at the water’s edge, waving at her.

‘Greg!’ Incautiously she accelerated towards him and for an awful moment she felt the wheels lose their grip and spin, then she was near him. Drawing to a halt she leapt out. ‘I couldn’t find you.’ Shaking her hair back out of her eyes she ran to throw her arms around him.

For a moment he didn’t move then she felt him return the hug, his mouth against her hair. ‘Kate. Oh, Kate,’ he murmured. For several seconds they clung together, then gently she freed herself.

‘Come on. Try and stand. We’ll put you in the back so you can rest your leg along the seat.’ He was desperately cold. She could feel the chill from his body through his wet clothes. ‘Come on, Greg. You’ve got to stand up. I can’t lift you.’

He was staring at the vehicle. ‘But I saw you. I saw you out there.’ He gestured behind him, towards the sea. ‘I heard you call me. I was crawling towards you, then this wave came and drenched me again.’

She glanced up. ‘You’ve lost your bearings and come right back down the beach. Come on. Stand on your good leg. I daren’t bring the car any closer to the edge. You’ll have to hop.’

‘I can’t.’ He subsided onto the wet sand again with a groan. ‘I’ve had it. I can’t move.’

‘You can. You’ve got to.’ She gritted her teeth. ‘Come on. You can’t give up now.’ She hauled at his arm. ‘I’ll find something for you to lean on. You’ve got to try, Greg.’ She was growing frantic.

‘OK, OK.’ He tried to shake his head. Spray and sleet were cold on his face; tears and sweat, hot. The salt mixture ran into his eyes, blinding him. He could see someone standing behind her. Why didn’t she help? It was a woman. Not Allie. Not Ma. ‘Give me a hand. Please.’ His words were slurring. He felt Kate’s arm strong under his; then her shoulder as he hauled himself up. The other woman was helping, no, she was gone. Where was she? He felt his knees buckle. He could not put his left foot on the sand. The rush of the waves filled his head; dimly he could see the outline of the Land Rover. The back door was open. Inside it was safety, warmth, rest. With a superhuman effort he launched himself towards it with three massive hops on his good leg, throwing himself half in through the door. Then he lost consciousness again.

‘Greg! Greg!’ Kate bent over him. ‘Come on, one more effort.’ The car was a haven. She wanted them both inside and the doors locked. Behind them the beach was hostile, threatening.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the shadow; the woman hovering near them. Her skin crawled. The blue dress was still stained; it did not blow in the wind; the sleet did not seem to wet the woman’s hair, but she was watching them and Kate could smell her scent. Over the wind and the sleet and the salt smell of sea and sand and weed she could still smell that flowery perfume. She felt sick. Her terror was so great she could not move for a moment. Only a groan from Greg jerked her back from her terrified fascination. She turned. ‘Get in, Greg. Get in quickly,’ she said urgently. ‘Just crawl. Quickly.’

Something of the panic in her voice reached him through the black haze. His hands scrabbled at the seat in front of him; somehow he dragged himself along it and lay, panting, clawing at it to give himself purchase. Behind him Kate caught him round the hips and shoved at him with all her might. Without regard to his injured foot she caught his knees and folded them in behind him and slammed the door on him.

Spinning round she stared out into the night as a new flurry of snow whirled in across the beach. Where was she? She could see nothing now. Desperately she turned and fled round the car, grappling with the driver’s door handle, dragging it open and flinging herself into the seat before slamming the door behind her and banging down the lock. With a cry of relief she slumped back to try and get her breath.

The white shape which hurtled onto the bonnet was so close in front of her she let out a scream. She saw a huge, bloodshot eye. Something crashed down on the windscreen and she saw a splintering crack shiver down the glass. ‘No!’ she flattened herself against the back of the seat, bringing up her arm instinctively to protect her face. ‘No! Please! Greg!’

Greg stirred. He found himself lying face down on the rough rug spread on the back seat. He clutched at it convulsively and felt an agonising pain shoot up his left leg which appeared to have been folded in half beside him on the floor. ‘Kate?’ His voice was indistinct, muffled in the rug. ‘Kate, where are you?’

‘Here!’ Her whisper barely reached him. ‘Greg. Help! Look!’ The fear in her voice reached him through the swimming veil of pain. With an enormous effort he raised his head. Somehow he managed to move sideways, dragging himself up into a sitting position. His teeth were chattering and his body was seized by a wave of violent rigors as he tried to focus on Kate. ‘I’m here. I’m here.’ He clutched at the back of the seat.

Her eyes still fixed on the windscreen she did not turn round. ‘Look.’

It was still there – a huge, flapping white object. Again she saw the eye, yellow, threatening, and then a vicious curved beak. Kate flinched, raising her arm to protect herself, closing her eyes in terror as with a resounding clang a sharp blow descended on the already shivered windscreen.

‘Kate -?’ Greg’s voice was blurred and indistinct.

‘It’s a gull!’ She was sobbing with fear and relief. ‘It’s a huge gull.’ For a moment the whirl of flapping wings and the cruel eyes and vicious beak resolved themselves into a clear outline, the webbed feet scrabbling for a foothold on the bonnet, and then it had gone, launching itself off into the wind and out of sight.

Kate reached for the ignition. Her hands were shaking so much she could hardly start the engine. Frantically she grabbed at the gear lever and shoved it forward. The Land Rover jerked and stalled.

‘Well done.’ It was almost a chuckle from the back. Kate started the engine again. Forcing herself to be calm she engaged reverse gear and let in the clutch with more care. The Land Rover backed away from the sea, the headlights sweeping the beach. ‘I can’t see it. There’s no sign.’

‘I don’t think we’ll send out a search party. Let’s get out of here. Can you see all right? See if you can get back to the track.’ Greg gritted his teeth as a new wave of pain hit him. Ignoring it he pulled at the rug on the seat and dragged it around his shoulders. The dim interior of the Land Rover was beginning to swim around him once more.