“You’ve noticed, haven’t you?”
Jack put down his spear and squatted.
“Well. They’re frightened.”
He rolled over and peered into Jack’s fierce, dirty face.
“I mean the way things are. They dream. You can hear ‘em. Have you been awake at night?” Jack shook his head.
“They talk and scream. The littluns. Even some of the others. As if—”
“As if it wasn’t a good island.”
Astonished at the interruption, they looked up at Simon’s serious face.
“As if,” said Simon, “the beastie, the beastie or the snake-thing, was real. Remember?”