A girl with a ring through her nose smiles glumly

as I show her the ticket Alice forwarded me.

It’s weird –

the ticket is just for one,

but it feels like it’s for

both of us.

‘First feed’s in fifteen minutes,’ she says in a bored voice.

Rowan thanks her and I hold my breath as we walk through the black-flap door, because I’m finally doing it. I’m not cycling, or playing games, practising kicks, or wandering round the streets of Tokyo. I’m Living my own life and I’m choosing to dive.

Well, here goes nothing.

But I hope –

for Alice’s sake –

that it’s at least something.

We pass through to the other side and the lighting is dim. The world blurs and warps as the camera struggles to cling on to what is real. The sound of drowning and the distant screaming of children and the whirring of machines keeping things alive roars though the microphone all at once and I choke on it.

But then the bubbles clear and we’re gliding across a seabed, red and green light bulbs making everything feel as if we’ve passed into another world. Rock walls tumble into a long corridor, with tanks on every side, brightly lit and swimming with life, like little pockets of sea.

Ghost girl

has disappeared on me again.

‘You okay?’

And I mean it this time. ‘I’m wonderful.’

Rowan chuckles and bends down at the first tank, open at the top and glass from the waist down. We watch as huge silver fish bump and nudge each other along, eyes following us as we crawl round the outside, peering in at them.

It’s like watching an underwater rush hour.

‘Do you reckon they think we’re

in the tank with them?’

‘We are!’

Mum closed the curtains in my room before she left this morning, shrinking my room down to one window at the very bottom of the sea. And I can feel the water between my fingers. Feel the slippery bumps as the fish tumble against me in a mad dash to get to the edge of the glass, only to turn and dive back round again.

We make our way to the next tank. This one is filled with small tropical fish. They swim in different directions, oranges, blues, yellows and golds colliding.

‘They’re like confetti.’

This tank looks like that film

Jonah loves.

‘Hey, look –

I found Nemo.’

‘A clownfish. They’re always everyone’s favourite.’

Favourite

is a pretty strong word for a fish.

‘All right, so here’s a question.

What would you be,

if you were a fish?’

I think about that for a moment. ‘A mudskipper. They can live in water, but they can also hop across land.’

And I like the idea of that. That my body might be stuck blowing bubbles, but I’m free to run and breathe.