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to the window, the image had gone. It had been so fleeting she didn’t know whether it had been real or imagined; the pallor had been that of the fog, and could have been just that, a will-o’-the-wisp in the ethereal ocean that eddied and flowed at the shores of Paradise .
     

CHAPTER 4
     
    Ratty and Izzy had been wandering around for what seemed like hours. Neither of them had a clue where they were, and the fog wouldn’t dissipate enough to allow them to pick out any landmarks.
    Ratty shivered. His feet were soaking wet, and he felt generally uncomfortable and miserable. If he wasn’t lost in it, he wouldn’t have believed fog could be so dense. At his side, Izzy was an indistinct blur, but he was glad he was not alone as he had the distinct feeling they were being followed. He couldn’t quite explain why he had the feeling, but it persisted, raising the hairs on his neck like a conjuror.
    But he couldn’t think of anyone he would rather have with him than Izzy . She had only recently broken up with Nigel ‘the Neanderthal’ Jones, and whenever Ratty had seen them together, a pang of jealousy had pierced him. He didn’t like Nigel, didn’t like the way he grabbed Izzy’s bottom, didn’t like the way he shoved his tongue in her mouth, and he definitely didn’t like the way he bragged about copping a feel of her pert breasts in the cinema. Ratty was glad they had broken up, because if Nigel had bragged about getting any further than a quick grope, he was sure he would have punched his lights out.
    Using their free hands to feel their way through the fog in case they walked into something or fell into a ditch, they shuffled along at a snails pace. Concentrating on just staying upright and not walking into things, they hadn’t said much to each other. At first they had shouted for help, but they had eventually stopped when their throats began to hurt.
    “ Izzy , can you feel that?” Ratty thought it strange speaking to someone he could hardly see.
    “Feel what?”
    “It feels like tarmac. A road.” It surprised Ratty how different tarmac felt underfoot after traipsing through sodden fields; like reaching a semblance of civilisation.
    “Where, I can’t feel anything.”
    “Step this way, toward me. There, can you feel it?”
    “Yes, we must be on a farm track or the lane into the village.”
    “Well, if we follow it, it must lead somewhere.”
    “That’s true, Sherlock and at least we won’t get any wetter.”
    “Well what are we waiting for?” Ratty said, sounding slightly more cheerful.
    Izzy grunted a reply that sounded more like a condemnation, but she followed anyway.
    They shuffled along for about half an hour when Ratty heard what sounded like the faint murmur of voices. “Can you hear that?” he asked.
    “Shush, let me listen.”
    “We’re saved.”
    “Shut up.”
    “Well we are.” He wished she wouldn’t be so brusque with him.
    “Look, just keep quiet for a minute. If we’re caught in here, you know we’ll be in trouble. They haven’t posted those signs warning people to stay away for nothing.”
    “You’re being stupid, they could help us get out. Perhaps they’re even looking for us.”
    “Do you want your parents to know where you’ve been?”
    Ratty didn’t answer. His mother had repeatedly warned him about going anywhere near the fog. She’d said it was a bad omen – look what had happened to his father.
    “Come on, over here, off the road,” Izzy said, dragging Ratty behind her.
    They had hardly taken two steps when they fell into a rancid, water-filled ditch.
    “Bloody hell ...”
    Izzy covered Ratty’s mouth with her hand before he could finish.
    “ Shush .”
    Ratty pulled her hand away from his mouth, his face set in a petulant grimace. Why did he let her boss him around so much? He had to be more assertive, show her she couldn’t always tell him what to do.
    “I thought I heard something,” a man’s brusque, disembodied voice said.
    “Probably