They packed their antique weaponry into kitbags and stowed themselves in a small cabin. ‘You don’t have to come,’ Wiri patted Kelly’s belly. ‘Maybe if you got some rest … ?’ She looked at him with tired yet determined eyes. ‘Nice try, mate,’ she drawled. ‘I snatched a few winks while you and Tim were sorting out the boat. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.’ She didn’t tell him that she was having light contractions every fifteen minutes. Part of her knew this was probably foolish, but Matty was out there somewhere, and it was her idea to go to the island. It would be fine. The pilot of the launch was a friendly-faced man called Gavin, with curly dark hair tucked beneath a stained naval cap, and filthy overalls. He wasn’t the regular pilot, he told them, just a mechanic doing some maintenance on the engine. ‘May as well give her a run out,’ he said laconically, but Kelly could see that his interest was pricked.
