‘— and so they all came to Australia for the wedding, a huge gang of them. It’s true what people say about the Welsh, they really do love to sing — Bloody hell! What was THAT?’

The plane had given a jolt as it moved back from the docking area. Eliza’s heart leapt at the movement too. She felt her pulse start to race. Beside her, Judith started to cry.

Sullivan leaned across again. ‘Don’t worry, Judith. That’s perfectly normal. We have to get out on to the runway. There’ll be plenty more little noises and bumps. I can explain them if you want.’

‘Do you want to swap seats?’ Eliza asked him. She could take the window seat, and concentrate on her own terror. It was now slowly threatening to overwhelm her.

‘Thank you but no, Eliza,’ Sullivan said. ‘Unaccompanied minors are always given the window seat. We’re usually placed beside women too, to guard against creeps, basically. Of course there are creepy women too, but I’ve been taking this flight for four years and, hand on my heart, I haven’t had a bad experience yet. I also prefer the window seat. Did you ask for an aisle seat specifically, Judith?’

She nodded. She was now shredding a new tissue, the pieces fluttering around her like snowflakes. ‘My neighbour told me to. She also said I should take lots of walks so I don’t die of a blood clot. Also, when I get scared I go to the loo a lot. I didn’t want to disturb anyone. I have to go to the loo now.’

‘You can’t,’ Sullivan said cheerfully. ‘We’re taxiing. That means making our way to the runway.’

‘But the flight attendants aren’t sitting down. What’s wrong? Do they know something we don’t?’

‘No, they get dispensation to make last-minute checks. Excuse me,’ he called as a well-groomed young woman passed by. She stopped. ‘I’m Sullivan, the unaccompanied minor. This is Eliza and Judith. Judith’s a terrified flyer. But she’ll be fine, won’t she?’

The attendant smiled a white-toothed, red-lipsticked smile. ‘We’ll all be fine. I’ve done this flight a dozen times. It’s safer than —’

‘Driving,’ Judith said. More tissue floated around her. ‘I hear it but I don’t believe it.’

The flight attendant lowered her voice. ‘Would you like a drink to steady your nerves? I could get you a brandy if you think it would help?’

‘Brandy would be great,’ Sullivan answered for her. ‘Anything but gin. That makes her maudlin.’

The plane made another slow movement, getting closer to the runway. Judith gasped. Beside her, Eliza was clenching her fists, forcing her nails into her skin, trying to stay calm.

The flight attendant returned with a small bottle. ‘You can’t use the tray table but a little sip might help.’ She lowered her voice. ‘My mum’s a bit frightened of flying and this works wonders on her.’

Eliza wished she could have a brandy too. Instead, she clenched her fists even tighter.

Sullivan noticed and frowned. ‘Are you nervous as well, Eliza? Do the airlines ask people when they book if they’re nervous? I don’t book my flights. My father’s secretary in Edinburgh, Ann-Marie, takes care of my arrangements. Would a flying phobia be considered private information?’