One moment they had no light to guide them the next they could spot the sporadic yellow windows of occupied vacation homes fringing the marshes of Hexham. Once a thriving fishing town, the sea had been depleted until, by the 1960s, the only industry left was razor clams.

Deserted during the seventies and eighties, it had recently been given a new lease of life as a magnet for the wealthy seeking unblemished real estate for the construction of modern, upscale retreats.

Holly had an ex-boyfriend who had driven his dogs out here to walk them, but she hadn’t been back since her teenage years. Main street now comprised of a general store and deli that supplied overpriced groceries to the closeted community and several restaurants that only they could afford to dine in. Reality very rarely impinged on the place, and that’s how its residents liked it.

‘I think I know how to get to the square.’ Maggie eased the car down a ramp that led to the shoreline.

‘When did you last visit?’ Holly put her palm against the dash as they descended.

‘Couple of years ago.’ Maggie didn’t elaborate.

‘So, you know people here?’

‘No. I came to… my father wanted his ashes scattered here.’

Holly didn’t know how to respond.

‘Depressing place. I never understood why he had such a fixation for it.’

‘Maybe you’re right. Perhaps Babysitter’s tucking us away here until he’s worked out what to do with us.’

Maggie rolled the car past Serendipity, a seafood restaurant with only the menus illuminated in the window. They entered a small plaza and through the snow could make out a lighthouse winking at the edge of the next cove.

‘So what are we looking for here?’ Maggie parked up against the curb opposite the square.

The area was barely visible beyond the swirling flakes.

‘I’ll ask him.’ Holly sent a message to Babysitter.

In Hexham. What next?

After thirty seconds had passed, Holly grabbed the door handle.

‘Wait—’

‘Nobody has come in behind us. But in this weather, it’s going to be hard to tell if they do. I’m going to quickly check it out.’ Holly needed to move, couldn’t be sitting still for a second while Abigail was in danger. ‘Whatever Babysitter’s motives are, I’m going to obey. Stay with Penny. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

Maggie glanced to the back seat. Penny was sleeping. ‘OK. I’ll keep the engine running. How’s that hip?’ She nodded at the wound she’d inflicted.

Holly ignored the question and handed her the phone. ‘In case Sascha calls. Or he gets in touch.’

Maggie took it. ‘Five minutes. I don’t know what he expects you to find. I’m sure this is just a distraction.’

As if in response, the phone buzzed. Maggie read the message and showed it to Holly.

Find me. Find Abigail.

‘Watch out for other cars.’ Holly opened the door and was assaulted by the freezing salt wind. She pulled up her hood, but it was immediately whipped off her head again. She jammed her hands in her pockets, made sure there was no pickup coming down the road behind them and then hobbled into the square, her body leaning hard into a violent gust.

Was Babysitter escaping with Abigail? What choice did she have though? Holly half closed her eyes as the blizzard lashed her face and tried to see her booted feet through her cracked lids. It was a couple of inches deep here, and when she peered up again Holly could see drifts had already built up against the general store to the west of the square.

As she hit the cobbled area she swivelled back to the Scion and could only just perceive the twin lights. The engine noise was drowned out and, over the air rumbling against her eardrums, she heard a lone seagull as it was buffeted somewhere above. Holly attempted to spot anything significant. The eddying snowfall only allowed her to take in occasional glimpses of her surroundings, however. The lighthouse flashed to her far right.

The bruise at the back of her head began to thud, and her injury smarted again. It appeared the painkillers were wearing off. Her teeth chattered against the cold.

As she progressed to the middle, a dark shape obscured her view of the lighthouse. She headed for it and a statue materialised from the blockade of white.

She blinked as she took in the dark dimensions of the three spindly figures before her. They were faceless, their smooth features impassive and eerie. Holly struggled to read what was carved into the onyx plinth they were standing on.

Was this what Babysitter intended her to find? And was he or the drone monitoring her? She circled the plinth and hunted for any other inscriptions and came to a park bench the other side. On a fine day it obviously presented a clear view across the flats. The seat was now covered in snow; a brass plate was screwed to the back of it. Holly wiped at the flakes partially concealing what was engraved there.

Holly memorised the name and date. Was any of this relevant? She continued her circuit of the statue until she was facing the figures again, but there was nothing else written on the plinth.

Holly cut across the square and skirted the edge of it as her face stung and burnt. She followed the curb and covered the cobbles around the statue and bench. There was nothing else here, but this was where Babysitter had specified… was he just toying with her?

It was time to return to the car, and she squinted her eyes against the breeze as she searched for the headlights.

As she drew near Holly could hear the engine rev. Looking up she saw the Scion take off and accelerate at full speed towards her.