I knew that these next few moments would be vital. I was the only person who could prevent Dad from leaving Rosie behind. If I failed … well, I couldn’t even bear to think about it.

Dad paused. “Don’t what?”

“I don’t believe what I said. About having a sister.” It was so difficult to force out the words, like spitting stones through my teeth, but somehow I managed it. “I … I said it to get attention, like you thought.”

“Christ, Jess.” Dad looked furious. “Is this some kind of game to you? You really frightened Kate and me. Look, I know it’s hard being together like this, in each other’s pockets, but if you’re finding it that difficult then we should still leave.”

I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But I really would like to try again. Please.”

I waited, holding my breath. Eventually he sighed and said, “I’m going to try to get a few hours’ sleep. I suggest you do the same. We’ll talk about this later.”

I nodded, doing my best to look contrite. Dad took himself off to his bedroom, and I made my 186way upstairs. It was barely six in the morning so I expected Charlie to be asleep too, but then I heard a tearing sound, and when I passed his open bedroom door I felt a gust of cool sea air blow through. I glanced inside and saw him standing at the open window. I was just about to tell him to close it before more flies came swarming in, but then I realized he wasn’t just standing there – he was throwing something out of the window.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He jumped and spun round with a guilty expression. He looked like he hadn’t slept much either. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale. He held half a piece of paper in his hand. I saw it was one of his crayon drawings, like the card he’d given us when we arrived and the ones I’d found outside our room later. I just had time to make out the jagged white wing of a gannet before Charlie screwed the whole thing up in a ball and tossed it out of the window.

“Dad will be angry if he sees you throwing your drawings outside,” I warned.

Charlie glared at me with an oddly mutinous expression on his face. “That wasn’t my drawing!” 187he said.

“It doesn’t matter whose it is,” I said. “Just put it in the bin.”