‘We won’t. The yacht will go on. You know what else will go on?’

‘Your heart?’

‘Yep. Because every night—’

A judder.

Shouting.

Two waiters pelting across the deck, trading Spanish words I couldn’t understand. One loosening his bow tie as he ran.

‘Adam?’

‘It’s nothing.’ But I was beginning to think it was something.

Suddenly an alarm, a shrill beeping sound that pressed down on us from all sides.

‘Adam, the boat is tipping.’

We watched in alarm as our glasses slowly slid across the wooden deck before they toppled into the sea.

‘Come on.’ I took her hand. Not that a disaster was about to happen – I could see land in two different directions – but something wasn’t right. I would have felt happier if Anna was wearing a life jacket. I would have felt safer if she was wrapped entirely in cotton wool for the next nine months.

The yacht careened violently. Anna crashed to her knees. ‘Adam?’ She was panicking now. I could hear it in her voice. All around us was noise. The smashing of glasses, champagne spilling onto the deck, the beeping of the alarm. Yelling, harried words in Spanish, the crew hurtling in all directions.

‘It’s okay.’ I helped her up.

‘We’re fucking sinking!’ someone bellowed and instantly a child began wailing.

It was too much, the crying, the shouting, the incessant alarm.

Think, Adam.

‘I’ll be back in a second.’

‘Don’t leave me.’ Anna was crying now. I rushed towards one of the catering staff and grabbed his arm.

‘My wife, she can’t swim. Life jacket?’

He garbled an answer in Spanish. His eyes wide.

‘Where’s the fucking lifeboat?’ A woman screamed. ‘We’re going to die!’

I wanted to tell her to shut up. That we were so close to both islands that no one was going to die, but above the cacophony of sound I could hear Anna calling me. I hastily made my way back to her but the boat was now at more of an angle and I lost my footing and crashed onto my side, pain shooting through my hip. ‘Stay where you are,’ I shouted, raising my head, knowing Anna would try to reach me. I needed her to keep holding on to the railings. I needed to know that she was safe.

I crawled. My hands slapping against the water that flooded the deck. The yacht slowly tilting; if it carried on it would eventually be on its side. I reached Anna.

She crouched down, clinging on to the railings, hyperventilating.

Next to her a teenage boy swept his smartphone around. ‘This is so fucking cool. My channel will get so many hits.’

It was all too much. They needed to shut the alarm off. The beeping was adding to the panic.

The swoosh of a flare. Its red tail cutting through the blue sky.