it.
‘Did she ever mention other friends or people she saw apart from her family?’ I asked. ‘Anyone at all outside of school?’
Mhairi gazed at me quizzically. ‘No . . . well, not to me. She was kind of secretive. Quite a few boys liked her, but she never showed any interest.’
Well, that was something.
Not that it mattered if we didn’t find her soon.
I went back to the B&B, still deeply frustrated.
Once in the room, I stared out of the window. It was a grim view, especially when the sky was so overcast: a small car park, some rubbish bins and the backs of a row of squat, brick houses.
‘I’ve found a boat,’ Lewis said. ‘Though the owner’s asking for more money than I want to spend. My savings are running low.’
I stared at him. I hadn’t really thought about it much before, but Lewis must be spending a fortune on our efforts to find Rachel. There was the cost of all the travelling we’d done
. . . plus my fake documents . . . petrol for the car . . . the B&Bs . . .
‘You’re spending your savings?’ I said. ‘I thought you had a job?’
‘It doesn’t pay that well,’ Lewis said. ‘I’m a security guard, not a professional soccer player.’
‘Sorry,’ I said, feeling irritated again.
There was a pause, then Lewis sighed. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s just since Mel, looking out for Rachel’s been all that mattered.’
I looked away, remembering Lewis’s smart, beautiful girlfriend again . . . and how Elijah had shot her dead in front of us both.
‘Most days I just go to work and come home again,’ Lewis went on in a low voice. ‘And when I get home I tend to stay there, though I have been keeping an eye on Rachel’s
dad’s work friends . . . making sure no one was in a position to harm her . . .’
I felt another stab of jealousy. It should have been me looking out for Rachel, not him. ‘Did anyone ever see you checking up on her?’
‘No.’ Lewis ran his hands over his head. ‘I was careful.’
‘Are you sure? I mean, maybe whoever has got Rachel found her through you.’ The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
I felt mean inside for saying them . . . for thinking them . . . and yet . . .
Lewis stared at me, horrified. ‘I hope not,’ he said. ‘Man, I hope not.’
‘It doesn’t matter now anyway,’ I said awkwardly. ‘All that matters is getting her out.’
The time until we left passed slowly. Lewis went over the plan several times.
‘Apparently there’s only one place we can land on Calla, so whoever’s on the island will probably be guarding, or at least monitoring, what happens there. Once we’ve
arrived we’re going to have to move as quietly as possible.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I get it.’
‘Do you?’ Lewis fixed me with a stare. ‘If Rachel’s on this island there’ll be people there with guns. I don’t have one. D’you get that? All I have is a
knife. We have to be quiet and we have to be quick. Get in. Get Rachel. Get out.’
I swallowed. ‘I’m not afraid.’
Lewis muttered something I didn’t quite catch.
I didn’t ask him to repeat it.
At last it was time. We drove well out of Roslinnon to a battered old marina, where Lewis took charge of the boat he’d hired.
As Lewis went over the controls, I tugged my wool hat down round my ears. Lewis and I were both dressed in dark trousers and black jumpers, with dark jackets. We had to hope this would help keep
us unseen when we reached Calla.
I sat, as directed, in the bow of the boat as the motor revved. It was a small motorboat – just room for me at the front and Lewis at the back. I looked into the darkness. There were
lights on one of the large islands nearby, but I knew Calla was much further away.
I took deep breaths of the cold salty air as we set off.
This was it.
It felt like hours later when Lewis turned off the light in the boat and slowed the engine to a chug. The sea spray that had been spattering my face fell away and the moon
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