So why am I thinking about this when we’re on the family holiday? It’s because of the atmosphere in this train compartment. Mum just wanted to go to Scarborough to be near to Nana, who’s in Brid, just down the coast. But for some reason, Father insisted we were going to Germany. The ferry was quite fun. They even gave me some pocket money to buy sweets from the shop, and allowed me to go off on my own. I was standing at the railings, minding my own business, letting the spray hit my face, when one of the ship’s officers asked what I was doing there on my own. He said it was no place for a young boy, asked me my cabin number and then escorted me back there. When Father finally answered the door, he looked really angry and red in the face. He and Mum were only half dressed, as though they’d been having a sleep.

That earned me another slippering. Mum was angry too and this time didn’t try to stop him. I thought I might get away with it on holiday, but he brought the slipper with him specially! God, my arse stung. It’s been bloody uncomfortable sitting on these train seats as station after station passes by. We seem to be going to the furthest point in Germany possible.

It wouldn’t matter if Father wasn’t so strong. But that’s why we’re going to this place. He likes climbing rocks, so his forearms are huge. Mum says me and him are chalk and cheese. I’m more interested in all the trains and things, and the different cars they have over here.