“Sit down and hold on,” Jim instructed.

We squeezed into the narrow plastic seats inside the wheelhouse, then Jim revved the throttle and we pulled out of the harbour towards the open sea. I’d never been on such a small boat before, and it lurched, rolled and moved much more than I’d been expecting. I had to brace with my feet to stay stable in my chair.

The journey was horrible. Before long, we’d lost 30sight of the mainland and were surrounded by the grey water of the North Atlantic stretching out in all directions. Since the sky was grey too, it was hard to tell where the sea ended and the sky began. My skin felt dried out and sticky with salt. The wind rushed straight through the wheelhouse, along with frequent bursts of icy spray.

“This island better be an absolute paradise,” I said to Rosie, raising my voice to be heard over the din.

She nodded, looking miserable and more than a little green. I was so cross with Dad – I just couldn’t believe that we were stuck on this boat for four hours with nothing to do. I didn’t even dare take my phone out of my pocket to make the most of the last remaining bars of reception, in case it went flying over the side.

Rosie looked more and more ill as time went on. I gave her a nudge and mouthed, You OK?

She shook her head, then a few minutes later, lurched over to the side of the boat and vomited. I felt pretty queasy myself and was definitely regretting the breakfast I’d eaten at the hostel. Luckily my seasickness was mild and I was never actually sick on the boat, but Rosie threw up over and over again. 31

As usual, the sight of her being in any way unwell tied my stomach up into tight little knots of anxiety. I knew this was nothing like before – she was just being seasick. But still. It reminded me of that bad, dark time, which made an invisible weight settle on my shoulders. Finally Rosie slumped down next to me, exhausted. I longed to reach out to her, to ask if she was all right and whether there was anything I could do, but I didn’t dare do more than briefly squeeze her shoulder. Rosie couldn’t stand people fussing and fretting over her. I guessed it reminded her of the bad time too.

“Gets a lot of people like that,” Jim said, giving Rosie a sympathetic look.

I checked my watch after a while, hoping we might be more than halfway there, but to my dismay barely an hour had passed. The thought of this going on for another three was hell.

“I’m going to murder Dad,” I said to Rosie, who nodded bleakly.