‘TOMMY!’ she screamed, and she shouted his name again and again, her words trailing off to a single thin scream.

The pressure against her vanished as her assailant let go, but the knowledge that they were there, still close, frightened her almost as much as if they were still attacking her. Footsteps came now, hard and pounding, and she shifted position, crawling along the deck, slippery and cold, as she continued to shriek. Feet skidded to a stop beside her, three or more people there now, and finally, there was Tommy, on his knees in front of her, pulling her up to slump against him.

Tommy fed her a shot of whisky as she sat in the chair by the window. Her teeth knocked against the glass and he pulled the duvet tighter around her. She swallowed hard to stop herself gagging at the strong taste, and the sharp tang of bile rose in her throat.

‘I’m not cold,’ she protested, pushing the suffocating quilt away.

The late-night unscheduled announcement from the captain rang in her head. Keep your eyes open for some unexpected surprises! She shuddered, and a strangled cry emerged. When she had listened to his words over the sound system it had been magical, a hint of promise of something spectacular. Now, after the event, it seemed like a warning.

One she had not paid heed to.

‘She’s in shock,’ said Dermot, one of Tommy’s fishing friends. He pulled up a stool and sat down in front of her.

She looked up at him, noticing him almost for the first time, then pushed herself out of the chair and grabbed his sleeve. ‘He wore a coat like this, waxy,’ she said, her voice trembling as she rubbed it between her fingers. ‘It was green, I think, just like this. A dark green waxed jacket.’

‘Well, I was with Tommy when the accident happened,’ said Dermot after a moment’s uncomfortable silence.

She winced; she hadn’t been accusing Dermot. An apology poured forth from her at the misunderstanding. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m not saying it was you, just that this is exactly what he was wearing when he pushed me.’

‘It’s a common jacket,’ replied Dermot. ‘Lots of fishermen wear them.’

‘Maybe someone had had too much to drink,’ said Tommy.

‘I thought that!’ said Paula. ‘I thought they’d just staggered into me, but they grabbed me, they didn’t let go, they pushed me into that very specific gap where the railing had broken.’ She heard her voice splinter with unshed tears and looked from Dermot to Tommy. ‘I was pushed,’ she finished quietly.

There was a moment of silence before Tommy spoke again. ‘I meant you,’ he said. ‘That maybe you’d had a bit too much to drink.’