‘Come on. Roundabout time!’ Tom says, as he starts jogging over towards it, still holding my hand. ‘On you get.’

‘Okay, but be careful,’ I say, giggling. ‘I don’t want to be sick.’

‘You’ve only had two drinks.’

‘Three. And I don’t do well with motion at the best of times.’

‘You could’ve fooled me,’ he replies, flicking his eyebrows upwards seductively.

‘Yeah, well it’s been a long time since that’s happened anywhere near a play park,’ I say, with false coyness.

Tom leans in close. ‘We could always rectify that situation.’

As I move forward to kiss him, he pulls back and grins, before the roundabout starts moving.

‘Tom!’

‘Hold on tight!’ he says, as he starts to spin it faster and faster. Every half-second or so I catch a glimpse of his face as I spin round past him. I don’t know if I’m imagining things, but every time I see it the smile seems to drop slightly, until it’s neutral, then almost angry.

‘Tom, stop,’ I say. ‘It’s too fast.’

He’s not listening to me.

‘Tom, I want to get off. I feel sick!’

I try to stand up, but the force keeps pushing me back down. I grip the metal safety bar and hoist myself round, before waiting for my moment and stepping off. The second I do so, I regret it. My right foot hits the ground and I stop, but the roundabout keeps spinning and I feel a searing pain as the metal bar smashes into my left shin, knocking me off balance and sending me into the sandpit.

I lie there for a moment or two, shocked and in pain, before Tom comes over.

‘Jesus, Grace. Are you alright? Why’d you just jump off like that?’

‘I… I felt sick,’ I say. ‘I asked you to stop… Fuck that hurts!’

‘Where does it hurt?’ Tom says, lifting up my trouser leg. ‘Oh wow. You’ve got quite a bruise there already. You’ll want to keep that covered up.’

‘Why didn’t you stop when I asked?’ I say, trying to catch my breath as the pain slowly begins to subside.

‘I didn’t hear anything, babe. Honestly. If I’d heard you say stop, I would’ve stopped. You know that, don’t you?’

I look up at him, and there’s a look in his eyes I can only describe as neutral. It gives me nothing, but at the same time that’s exactly what I find most disconcerting.

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I know.’

I push myself to my feet, fighting against the horrendous pain in my leg, but knowing nothing is broken and I need to get it moving.

I start walking in the direction of the seafront, Tom following a few steps behind me. Neither of us says a word as we walk.

As we get back to the others, Cath calls out to us.

‘Any luck?’

‘Nope,’ Tom says, before I can answer. ‘Had a quick look around, but I don’t think there’s much call for chairs and blankets round here.’