‘Alright,’ Daniel said. ‘Just wait a moment, I’ll get him out.’

He took the rope and re-tied it with double the number of knots, yanking them tight. The outline of the door below deck was now dancing in a haze as Daniel eased back into the pit below the steering wheel, the memory of another lost child skipping at his heels. Heat rushed into his guts and turned him inside out.

‘Jamie!’ he shouted uselessly, because there seemed nothing else to do. ‘Jesus Christ! Why are all my kids taken away from me?’ he cried.

The strength of the heat threw him back against the ladder, far enough to see Andy’s shadow rising against the white walls of the yacht, something high in his arms for a moment, before slamming it against the back of Daniel’s head.

James rifled through Tony’s shelves, desperate to secure the photos from his cousin’s desk. The volatile air had moved things around a bit, but he uncovered the precious pile of letters and images and held them tight.

In the bathroom he searched for something to protect them. Under the corner sink was a medical-style sleeve containing prescriptions and other documents. James emptied it and sealed Tony’s things inside.

Sudden shouting made him look up. Mr Jones was reaching through the hatch, smoke coursing around him.

‘I’m here!’ James shouted, pushing the plastic zip-lock bag down the front of his shirt.

‘Give me your hand.’

He reached up and one large paw gripped his forearm. The agent’s face was red and determined from the effort of bending into the hole.

James looked down in order to get his foot onto the bottom rung of the rope ladder, but the force of Mr Jones falling onto his back knocked him to the floor. For a few seconds as they struggled, James assumed it was an accident, but then he felt sharp blows to his head. His hands went to cover his face just as the heavy kick sent him through the door of Tony’s room.

Another kick slammed James right on the jaw and threw him completely inside.

The door slapped shut. He kicked it, but the solid plywood panel wouldn’t budge. Ignoring the pain coming from his face and neck, James got his feet underneath himself and immediately pushed the curtains aside. The windows were long and narrow, giving glimpses of blue sky and water, but there was no way of getting them open. He reached for his phone to call for help, but his pockets were empty. Dad still had it.

Fuck!