‘And day shifts,’ Lyngar said, matching her disapproval. I’d noticed he’d become a bit protective of me lately. I hoped he wasn’t going to declare his love for me before the trip was out. God, that sounded conceited. But it happened on trips like this, everyone squeezed in together. Connections formed fast for some, feelings exaggerated.

‘I feel fine,’ I said, taking a flask of coffee from Mark, our runner. He was young, just twenty. I’d like to say he reminded me of myself when I was a runner but he was a lot more laid back, maybe too laid back sometimes. He made a damn good cup of coffee though.

Jim shook his head. ‘It’s fine, Gwyneth, I—’ He swallowed, putting his hand to his mouth. ‘Jesus, not again.’ Then he ran to the bin and puked up into it.

I crossed my arms and smiled. ‘Decision made. I’ll do the night shift.’

‘No chance,’ Julia said. ‘Lyngar, you have some filming experience, right?’

‘Oh, come on, Julia,’ I protested. ‘No offence, Lyngar, but what’s he going to do when Duchess suddenly darts into the sea and he has to follow her? They’re bloody fast, these seals. Anyway, I had a great sleep last night.’

It was a lie. I’d actually gone out in the car to explore a nearby abandoned building. An idea was forming in my mind, of filming animals who make homes in old structures forgotten by humans. It was particularly beautiful here, in the winter: ice-cracked windows and snow fallen through broken roofs. I didn’t know what I’d do with the footage. But right now I was enjoying doing it, a project just for me. ‘I’ll be fine, honestly,’ I said. ‘I’ve never needed much sleep anyway, you know me.’

Lyngar gave me a small smile. He certainly did know. ‘She’s right, Julia,’ he said. ‘I can’t produce anything close to the work Gwyneth does.’

‘Fine,’ Julia said reluctantly. ‘But tomorrow night, you take a break.’

I gave her a thumbs-up. ‘I promise.’

Later that night, I sat on a fold-out chair, looking up at the stars. It didn’t feel dark, the icebergs around me like diamonds. Ahead of me, Duchess breathed heavily on her ice bed, her pup curled up next to her, oblivious to the fact he’d soon be abandoned. Duchess was sleeping so much better now she’d given birth. She was always so restless when she was pregnant. Who could blame her with a pup squirming inside? It reminded me of a photo I’d once seen of my own mum, heavily pregnant with me, standing sideways to the camera, smiling proudly but clearly looking uncomfortable. My parents must have been so excited to welcome their first child into the world. And yet, fourteen years later, it all fell to pieces.