THE DRIZZLE STARTED first thing. Gracie had set her phone alarm for five in the morning. They had four hours of sailing before they got to Southampton. Grandad moaned as he got up and cursed his bad back. Marty sniffed himself. He stank. Not just the normal stinkiness of not washing, but he stank of slightly sour pumpkin. The insides of it were now turning slightly slimy, and Marty was sure it was sitting a bit lower in the water. They didn’t have any money left for breakfast, and since Grandad was sure that they’d be back home around lunchtime, they’d have to hold on until then. Marty looked out to sea as Gracie and Grandad started clearing out the pumpkin. They didn’t need anything that was extra weight. There were a few empty gasoline canisters and some rubbish that were just taking up space, so Gracie and Grandad walked those to the bin. The sea was so gray today that it was almost impossible to tell where the sea ended and the sky started. The sea was difficult to read too. Not too choppy, but it definitely had an undercurrent of something about it.

“We ready?” asked Grandad at last. Gracie nodded and smiled.

“Let’s go home!”

They sailed out of the harbor and bobbed their way in the general direction of Southampton. Marty pulled up the sail today as the wind seemed to be more consistent. He watched as it filled and boosted them forward. They sailed in relative quiet. Since there wasn’t much traffic around out in the middle of the channel, Gracie had laid her head on the edge of the pumpkin and was listening through it to the water below. Grandad was talking to the engine in a low voice. Egging it on.

Marty couldn’t wait to tell his mum that one of Grandad’s schemes had finally worked. That they’d done this absolutely brilliant and ridiculous thing. He imagined opening the door and telling her the whole story. She might not believe him, but that wouldn’t stop him. He’d been thinking about her in the night. Alone in the house, and he knew that he couldn’t make her better. It wasn’t his job, and it wasn’t in his power to do that, but he could live his own life. Make something of himself and maybe, in some way, show her how brilliant the world could be. Marty was thinking about this when he noticed something. Something that would worry you on dry land, to be fair, but something that was even more worrisome when you were in a pumpkin in the middle of a choppy ocean. His socks were wet. He looked down. Wiggled his toes. Yup. They were definitely wet. As Gracie was miles away in her daydreaming, she hadn’t noticed.

“Er, Grandad!”

“Hang on, Marty.”

“No, er, Grandad…”

“Give me a minute. I need to adjust the engine…”