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forward and kisses my cheek. ‘Be good. I love you.’
    ‘Yeah,’ I mumble, giving him the briefest of hugs back. But there are tears in my eyes as he turns and heads back to the boat.
    ‘Come on then.’ Miss Bunnock indicates the rucksack on the ground at my feet. ‘Pick that up, we need to get you settled before the welcome talk. Dinner has been delayed to
allow time. Everyone else is up at the house.’
    I frown. It isn’t quite 4.30 pm. What time is dinner usually served? I follow Miss Bunnock through the trees and along a gloomy path strewn with twigs and leaves. It’s far colder
here than it was at home. In fact, it doesn’t feel like summer at all. I tug my jacket around me. The instructions said to bring three pairs of leggings and/or tracksuit bottoms, plus three
T-shirts and three sweatshirts or jumpers. There was no mention of coats and I’m beginning to wish I’d brought something warmer than my cotton zip-up.
    Miss Bunnock doesn’t speak as we walk. After a couple of minutes, the trees thin out and we emerge onto a wide patch of heath with the sea in the distance on either side. It’s
completely deserted.
    ‘How far is the house?’ I ask. ‘Aren’t there any other buildings?’
    ‘No.’ Miss Bunnock clears her throat. ‘‘Apart from the boathouse, Lightsea House is the only building on the island.’
    The ground is rough and uneven; not easy to cross in my favourite sandals: silver, with a wedge heel. My boots are tucked at the bottom of my rucksack, along with my favourite bits of make-up.
The instructions said no cosmetics would be allowed, but I’m hoping no one will notice the mascara and BB cream I’ve shoved in the toes of my boots.
    Miss Bunnock is striding hard across the scrubby grass. I have to walk fast to keep up. After a few minutes, the land widens out and slopes upwards. Glimpses of the sea flash into view through
the gaps between the trees on either side. The sky over the water is darker than ever, but here on the island the sun is just about managing to shine through the clouds. Not that it cheers the
place up. From the heath, to the trees, to the sea, to the sky, the whole scene is a series of dull greys and browns.
    And then, out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a dark shadow and a flash of red moving through the woods. I turn. Blink. It’s gone.
    I stop. Miss Bunnock looks round and frowns. ‘What is it?’
    ‘I just saw something . . . er, someone.’ I point. ‘Over there, by the trees.’
    Miss Bunnock shakes her head. ‘Nonsense, everyone’s up at the house. I left the other students with Mr Bradley. Mrs Moncrieff is in the kitchen and Mr Lomax is busy in his
office.’
    ‘I’m sure I saw someone,’ I insist. ‘They were wearing a long dark coat and . . . and something red too . . . at least I think they were.’
    ‘Probably just a trick of the light; the island’s known for it,’ Miss Bunnock says. ‘Come on.’
    I stand for a second longer, my eyes straining into the trees, but the figure – if it was a figure – has gone. Is Miss Bunnock right that I just imagined it?
    Despite the sunshine on my face, I feel spooked to my core.

Six
    I follow Miss Bunnock across the heath. Despite looking back several times, I don’t see the shadowy figure again. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, as Miss Bunnock
said. After a few minutes, we reach another path where the trees to the right thin out and the grey sea stretches beyond.
    We hurry down a small mound, through more trees, then up another, steeper hill. Unlike Miss Bunnock, who’s as athletic as she looks, I’m panting for breath by the time we round the
last bend at the tip of the island and Lightsea House comes into view.
    My heart sinks another few inches. It is, without doubt, one of the ugliest buildings I’ve ever seen: made of stone over three floors, it looks like it’s just been dumped here, a
horrible granite box, dark grey against the navy sea beyond and steely sky above.