CHAPTER ELEVENIn the library, Maud and Agnes were hunched over a large book. Its cover was a battered ring binder, and the pages were a mishmash of handwritten pages, photocopies, and typed sheets. Agnes had pulled the book from a drawer in the nearby desk, and Maud had watched with fascination as her friend carefully transferred the tome to the desk, the cover moving as though the pages were alive. Agnes was barely able to keep the contents secured within the binding.“Giddy goodness, Agnes, that book doesn’t seem to want to come to our aid without a fight,” Maud said.“Happen so,” Agnes chuckled. “Maybe I should split the pages into a few volumes, but it just doesn’t seem right separating them. History belongs in one place.”“So what’s the story in these here pages?’ Maud said as Agnes turned the sheets, the act creating thick crinkling sounds about them.Agnes rubbed at her nose.“I can’t lay any kind of claim to it,” she said. “I put the book together, added to it over time,

CHAPTER THIRTEEN“You really didn’t have to do this, Mrs Beecham,” Claire said on the doorstep. She was clutching a rather large bouquet of flowers that Thomas had thrust at her as soon as the front door opened.“It’s the least we could do for being so generous,” Maureen said. “Though, perhaps you could’ve waited until Claire had stepped in through the door, Thomas.”Beatrice stood looking at Claire from the kitchen. There was no doubt in her mind that the TV presenter was beautiful. She wore a wine red, fitted dress that stopped just above her knees and a cream shawl covered her shoulders which matched the colour of her high-heeled shoes. Around her pale, slim neck was a delicate gold necklace that ended in a teardrop pendant.Claire’s eyes found Beatrice and she gave out a warm smile. “You must be Tom’s sister,” she said. “He’s told me a lot about you.”Beatrice returned the smile. “Well, I guess you’ll have to make up your own mind,” she said, hoping it didn’t come across

CHAPTER FIFTEENIn Lucas’ bedroom, Emily was sitting in a big armchair, finishing off her fourth jumbo cookie, eyes transfixed on the nautical map on the screen of her laptop. She chewed thoughtfully as a ship-shaped cursor—indicating The Spirit of the Ocean—blinked lazily on the coastline.Across the room, Elmo and Lucas were sitting on the bed eating pistachio nuts from a bag. The shells were in a bowl, a myriad of tiny, gaping mouths that evidenced just how many had been gorged in the time Beatrice had been on the boat.The two boys were facing Emily so she could lip read them, and also signed when relaying any important information Elmo found on the ship or its owners.So far, Elmo had found out the background of Redfern’s company and a biography of the current owner. One of the things that had caught Elmo’s attention was the mention of the owner’s penchant for maritime antiquities, and his inclination to display these in most of the vessels that his company built.“Got an ide

CHAPTER SEVENTEENBeatrice’s eyes never left the creatures lurking in the shadows. She took meagre comfort from the contact of Claire’s back against hers, both braced and ready for any pending attack. But the nagging thought that Lucas was lost to her mind’s eye was difficult to push aside.Until the thump, thump, thump of something rolling across the deck brought her back to the here and now.“That’s weird,” Claire said behind her.Beatrice couldn’t think of anything that could top the creatures in the ballroom, but she went with Claire’s assessment.“What was it?”“A girl appeared out of nowhere and landed on the deck,” Claire said.Beatrice thought this met the standard. “Yeah, okay, that’s pretty weird.”She risked taking a peek over Claire’s shoulder. The malformed figure prowled the deck, green eyes glaring, and then to Beatrice’s surprise, Emily jumped up and stood up to face the creature as it lunged.Beatrice moved fast, circumventing Claire, and reached out to g

CHAPTER NINETEENFor the first time in what seemed like forever, Beatrice felt genuinely terrified. Not scared, or afraid, not anxious or the many other nouns that she’d heard people describe how they felt when confronted with their worst fears. This was bone-chilling, brain-seizing fear, the kind that robbed rational thought, the kind that turned each chamber of her heart to ice water.The land was gone. The sea was gone. Overhead the nebulous clouds and the stars in between were gone. All around the boat was an endless nothingness, so complete that it appeared both small and vast at the same time.This was The Darkness. She knew this with a certainty that almost had her legs collapsing beneath her. Her arms were heavy, hanging at her sides like they were as useless as her situation.“Well, I said I wanted to be in space but this isn’t quite what I had in mind,” Claire breathed beside her. “And here I thought this couldn’t get any worse.”Beatrice tried to speak but nothing came