I press my forehead against the side window, eyes tipped towards the sky. It’s blustery out there – the wind rattling and moaning as it wraps itself around tall trees that sway as though dodging its icy hands.

A sudden thump on the glass makes me jump. ‘Fuck!’ It’s Ruth, the owner, far too close to the window, peering in at us, her small, grey eyes screwed up against the weather. I sink down in my seat, holding my chest, taking deep breaths to calm myself.

‘I’ll get the keys,’ Dad says, switching off the engine. He leans over his seat, grabs his coat from between Thomas and Maddie, and opens the door, which swings outwards, almost ripping from its hinges. Snow invades the car.

Once outside, Dad struggles to put on his coat, wind whipping it into the air like a kite, as he pushes his body weight against the door to close it. Finally, he beats the wind, and manages to get his coat on, doing it up as he trudges through settled snow, Ruth by his side.

I glance back at Thomas. He’s asleep, making puff puff sounds as he breathes. It breaks my heart that he messed up his young life. I can still recall how excited he was a few years back when a Hollywood director hired him to write a screenplay for a new feature – we all were. He’d flown to the US full of so much hope. But he struggled. Mingling in circles where he didn’t quite belong was too much for him. He began drinking and dabbling in drugs to cope, and instead of his life taking off, as it should have, he spiralled downhill. Lost control.

I gulp back my emotions, and turn back before Maddie can speak.

The cottages are a blur through the front windscreen, and I realise tears have filled my eyes. I cough, choking, as my larynx twists. I’d blocked this place out as best I could. Attempted to run from the memory.

‘You do know I’m sorry,’ Maddie says and I feel her move, and grip my seat. ‘That I didn’t mean—’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I cut in.

I hear her flop back in her seat. ‘OK,’ she says. ‘Fine.’

We sit in silence for some time, before the car door opens, and Dad jumps into the front seat, feathers of snow covering his hair and coat.

‘Ruth says we can pull up in front of the cottages for now.’ He starts the engine and drives towards Bluebell Cottage where Mum, Jackson and Lark had stayed last time. He stops outside the front door, and glances over his shoulder. ‘Right, let’s get you two in the warm.’

‘Thomas,’ Maddie says, shaking my brother to wake him. ‘We’re here.’