For a moment, I was dumbstruck, transfixed. My feet felt welded to the hot tarmac beneath them. Then the shockwave hit me and I ducked down behind the hedge out of sight, my face hot and my heart thumping. For a moment, I dithered, wondering whether to walk back through the gate and pretend I'd seen nothing. I knew I couldn't. My knowledge was written in the blood running into my face. Instead I turned and ran back down the lane, back towards the beach. Again, my plimsolls slapped against the dusty surface of the road.

I had some thought of going to find Jessica, but instead I found my feet taking me off the track and into one of the nearby fields. I stumbled over the stile that led over the fence and walked along the hedgerow. I felt hot all over, prickly with prurient curiosity and embarrassment. For a while, I stood looking out over the field, hugging my elbows and seeing the kiss again and again. I tried to construct an innocent scenario. Perhaps I'd imagined it? No - I couldn't have, I was seeing it now, unfolding in front of my eyes. Perhaps Jessica’s mum had had a fit and needed the kiss of life... even at ten, I could see that that was ludicrous. Did Jessica know? I wondered suddenly. Did Mr. McGaskill know? I found I had my fingers in my mouth, nibbling at the nails. I could taste gritty sand in my mouth.

There was a pile of wood heaped at the edge of the field, bleaching under the hot sun. I sat down on a log, rubbing my dirty knees. Beyond the hedge, in the next field, I could see a tractor trundling slowly round and round.

For the very first time in my life, I realised that things would change. I realised that we would all get older. One day, Angus wouldn't be here anymore. One day, I wouldn't be here anymore. A kind of panic took hold of me and I leapt up and began to run. Only, this time, I couldn't run home. I stopped at the edge of the field, at the gate, holding onto its rough wooden spars with both hands, gasping for breath and shaking the gate until its hinges rattled, shaking it with the tears running down my face, and my teeth clenched in sudden fury.

Chapter Sixteen

I stayed in the field until it got dark, roaming the sun-baked edges of the crop, sitting myself down and jumping up again. As the sun sank slowly beyond the darkening horizon, I trailed back home down the lane. Again, I paused outside the gate to our cottage and looked up at the lighted kitchen window.

               I could hear cooking sounds coming from within; the splash of water and the crash of a saucepan on the stove. There was the pop and glug of a wine bottle being opened. I rubbed my face; it felt tight and hot after being in the open air and sunshine all day and my eyes felt gritty from the tears that had dried along the lids. I could hear Mrs. McGaskill calling from the kitchen and froze. A second later, she came out into the corridor.

"Oh, Maudie," she said. "I'd wondered where you girls had got to. Can you go and root out Jessica for me, please? We'll be eating soon."

I didn't answer her straight away. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"Maudie?"

"S-sorry," I said, stuttering. "I don't know where she is either."

"Well, go and find her for me then, there's a love." She turned back into the kitchen. "Dinner in five minutes."

I dithered for a moment and then walked up to my room. Why should I do anything for her? She wasn't my mother. I'd seen her kissing my father and that was wrong. I stomped about my room for a bit and then heard Jessica's voice outside my window. When I looked out she was leaning out from her window.

"There you are," she said. "Where've you been all day? I've been at the stones for hours."

I shook my head. I felt sulky with the whole world, even with my best friend.

"Mum says it's dinner now, anyway. Come on. I'll tell you all the plans afterwards. Come on!"

She whisked back into her room, her blonde hair fluttering behind her like a golden flag. It was full twilight now and the midges were beginning to bite. I made my way slowly down the stairs, not wanting to see anyone but unable to pluck up the courage to stay in my room.

Everyone sat outside, as was usual for our supper time. The citronella candles were lit and a breeze ruffled the paper napkins.

That was the last evening we were to dine in the garden. My eyes kept returning to Angus and Mrs. McGaskill, trying to spot a significant glance between them, a softer look, or even a touch out of sight of any eyes but mine. I looked across at Jessica’s dad, calmly forking potato salad into his mouth. He caught my eye and smiled at me and I dropped my gaze, feeling hot in the face. All around me, everyone was behaving as they always did; Angus and Mrs. McGaskill talking, although not exclusively to each other, Mr. McGaskill eating and helping me and Jessica to seconds. I felt as if I were sitting alone, behind a plate of glass; able to observe but totally removed from their world.

After dinner, Jessica and I carried the plates into the kitchen and washed up, as we were expected to do. The kitchen window was wide open and a cloud of moths and insects flew loopily around the unshaded kitchen lightbulb. I went to the kitchen sink and jammed the plug into the plughole. Jessica crashed the plates down beside me and leaned forward, her blonde hair swinging towards me.

"Tonight," she whispered.

I could see the lightbulb reflected in both of her eyes and for a strange moment, it seemed as if the light itself was shining out of her pupils.

"What?"

"It's tonight," she said. "We'll do it tonight. The ritual. It's perfect - it's a full moon. It's the most powerful time. We've got to do it tonight or it won't work."

I struggled to show - what? Enthusiasm? Agreement? In truth, the shock of seeing Angus and Mrs. McGaskill had driven any concerns about Jessica's plans out of my head. At last I managed to paste a smile on my face.

"Yeah, okay. What shall we do?"

She looked annoyed. "Maudie, I've been telling you for the past week. Why don't you listen to me?"

"Sorry," I muttered. I reached for the plates and began to wash them, as much to have something to do with my hands as because I wanted to help.

"What's the matter with you, anyway? I saw you at dinner, sitting all quiet. What's up with you?"

I opened my mouth to tell her. Then I closed it again. "Nothing."

She lost interest. The stones were all to her; I could tell. She was there already – in her head – under the white moonlight, chanting to the night air.

"We'll sneak out at half eleven," she said, leaning close to me again. She was almost whispering. "Can you get a torch? Oh, never mind, don't worry, I know where one is. Meet me out the front of the house... No, that's too close, they might see us. Meet me at the start of the track and we'll go up together."

I nodded, helpless in the face of her obsession. I rinsed the last plate under the tap and watched the glob of dirty foam slide back into the washing up bowl.

"Maudie." It wasn't a question.

"What?"

"You're not going to let me down, are you?"

 "No," I said.

"Are you?"

For a moment she sounded like her mother and that made me even angrier. "No."

 I slammed the plate down on the draining rack and it broke, clean across. The two pieces fell to the floor, and smashed into smaller pieces. Jessica and I looked at each other in shock and then we both burst out laughing. We were still laughing when the adults came into the kitchen with questions and exclamations and for those few minutes, it was okay.