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what these guys do and work out their weak link. One thing is for sure, I’m not putting my trust in that Mo.’

‘Why not?’ asked Amelia.

‘The fact that he knows the chemical formula for Hitler’s propagandist, or whatever, doesn’t impress me. They’re just using him to keep us quiet. I wouldn’t trust him further than I could throw him.’

Xander shifted beside me. He didn’t say anything, but the way he didn’t meet my eye made it clear enough that Mo seemed all right to him. Normally I’d have been swayed by that; Xander has amazing instincts around people. But today I felt myself tense up defiantly. ‘He did nothing to help Pete,’ I said under my breath.

‘What could he have done?’ said Amelia.

‘Objected! Got in the way! Pulled the guy off him!’

‘None of us did any of those things,’ she pointed out.

‘We had a gun pointed at us,’ said Xander, trying to keep the peace.

‘True,’ replied Amelia. ‘But if what he says is true, then logical extrapolation means he did too.’

‘Big “if”,’ I said.

Amelia’s face made it clear she thought I had no idea.

‘What do you think of Pete’s chances 
 out there?’ said Xander.

‘He’s a strong swimmer and he knows the currents.’ My heart wasn’t in this reply.

Amelia didn’t exactly make matters better with her own answer to Xander’s question: ‘Impossible to gauge the probability of him making a successful sea swim without more detail.’ Seeing my head drop she continued, ‘Although you’re right that his swimming prowess increases the chance of a positive outcome.’

‘Poor guy,’ said Xander quietly.

I shook my head but it did nothing to dislodge the worry. ‘Yes,’ I whispered. ‘Poor guy.’

A gentle breeze had sprung up, drawing ripples across the slow-moving sea. The water wasn’t turquoise any more, but indigo cut with orange. The sun had dipped below the horizon and now the sky above us loomed very empty indeed. It would be dark soon.

Where were they taking us? I had no idea. And why tow the boat when it was perfectly capable of propelling itself? I was annoyed by the realisation that there was only one person I could ask, namely Mo. He’d disappeared into the wheelhouse of the cabin cruiser with the captain, and now emerged wearing a battered backpack. The cruiser slowed. In no time he’d hauled in the line and skipped between the two boats again.

He ran the length of the hood and jumped lightly down onto the bench, nimbly sidestepping the dive gear strapped in the hold. When he reached us, he sat down. He was smiling. I glowered back. He swung his rucksack into his lap and opened it up, asking, ‘Are you thirsty? Hungry? Here, the captain sends you some food and drinks.’

I turned away from him, but Amelia said, ‘What sort of food?’

He was rummaging about in his bag and spoke into it. ‘Kimis, a flat type of bread, and here, some mukmaad, which is dried-out beef.’

‘Jerky,’ said Xander.

Mo broke the word in half, trying it out: ‘Jerk key. Also, mango,’ he said, holding one up.

‘I’m not hungry,’ I told him.

‘Drink though,’ he said, holding up a plastic bottle beaded with droplets. It looked like it had come out of a fridge.

In silence I let him hold the bottle to my lips, knowing that without water I’d weaken in a matter of hours. The instant before he tilted the bottle, I realised I was parched, but when I took the first gulp I almost spat it out in surprise. The clear, bubbly liquid wasn’t water but lemonade. It felt like a trick. I couldn’t stop myself drinking some more all the same.

‘It’s good, yes?’ he said.

I turned away from him again.

He helped the others to drink and fed them as well, tearing off chunks of the flatbread and jerky and posting the pieces into Amelia and Xander’s open mouths. How demeaning, to be fed like a baby. I was glad I’d refused, but knowing they had eaten I immediately felt horribly hungry. I’d have to cave in soon, I supposed, but for now it felt good to have taken a stand.

Mo was apologising for the fact we were tied up. ‘It’s just until they can trust you,’ he said. ‘I will try to convince them, first thing in the morning, when it’s light.’

‘But where are we sleeping?’ asked Amelia.

The whites of Mo’s eyes were bright in the gloom. He looked apologetically into the hold. ‘We can use the life jackets to make things a little more comfortable,’ he said. ‘And there are blankets on the big boat. I will ask for some. I can’t promise, but let’s see.’

Without waiting for a response, he set off. The speed at which he left did make it look like he felt guilty and genuinely wanted to help, but it could have been an act. And again, when he returned with the promised blankets under his arm, he seemed proud to have negotiated them for us successfully, but for all I knew the captain had already told him to give them to us. I wasn’t about to follow Xander’s ever-so-grateful act, though I had to admit that keeping the boy onside was probably a good thing.

Now Mo was pulling out the life jackets and spreading them across the bottom of the boat. It wouldn’t make much difference. None of us would get any sleep with our hands tied behind our backs. Still, Amelia was shuffling herself into a more comfortable position, evidently ready to make the most of Mo’s efforts, and Xander allowed him to drape a blanket over his shoulders.

The dark came so quickly. What was left of the sunset drained away and the cloudbank became a black lid that slowly slid to one side over the next hour or so, revealing a night sky stabbed full of more stars than I’d seen before in my life. Unlike at home, where even the most starlit night sky looks like a single black sheet full of pinpricks of light, the sky

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