Page 108 of In the Same Boat

The flight home is exactly as comfortable as you would expect a flight home from such a mess of a holiday to be, business class or not.

I mean, physically, it’s great. The seats are reasonably comfortable, the cabin crew are polite; we even got a glass of fizz before take-off.

Mentally, though, I’m screaming.

Mum is sitting beside me by the window, looking out at the ever-darkening sky.

The flight took off twenty minutes ago. We have probably exchanged less than ten words since boarding, six of which were a matter of logistics and two were little more than grunts of acknowledgement.

I notice her check the little laminated safety card in the seat pocket again.

This is what we do instead of talking. These little mundane activities. Anything to pass the time really.

I should say something. I know I should. I can feel the words sitting somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach, waiting to pour out of me. The thing is, I don’t know where to start. With the lying? The scheming? Do we talk about Hank or Nico first? The romantic ambush Mum and Hank came up with? I think pretty much everything from the singles night to me firing the flare gun needs discussing sooner rather than later – and where better than up in the air, where neither of us can escape?

She turns to look out of the window again. I look over and see her reflection in the dark window. She looks tired – the kind of emotional hangover that comes after something dramatic happens, and I feel terrible for my part in it.

Maybe I could stay angry with her if she didn’t look so sad, if she had her warpaint on, if she was in defensive mother-hen mode… but not like that.

I puff air from my cheeks.

‘Shall we get this over with?’ I suggest.

‘Okay,’ she says softly. She turns to me, looks me in the eye and gets the ball rolling. ‘I’m sorry.’

And there it is, just like that, the only words I really need to hear to know that we’ll be okay.

‘I’m sorry too,’ I tell her. ‘So, so sorry.’

‘I should have been honest with you,’ she insists.

‘And I should have known that I could talk to you,’ I reply. ‘I just… I thought you were happy, and I wasn’t, and I didn’t want to drag you down with me.’

‘You did what you thought was right,’ she reasons. ‘And so did I, but I definitely shouldn’t have gone along with Hank’s surprise yacht holiday idea.’

‘There are very few statements in life where “surprise yacht holiday” is a bad thing, but I think we’ve found one,’ I joke.

She laughs, but there’s still so much sadness in her eyes.

‘I told myself it was for your own good,’ she says. ‘And that sounds awful now.’

‘It sounded awful at the time too, to be fair.’

She nods.

‘Why did you actually do it?’ I ask her.

She leans back in her seat.

‘Because I was worried about you.’

‘Mum…’

‘I know, I know, you didn’t need my help, but I’ve been taking up all your time, getting in the way – whether you’re too polite to tell me or not – and I wanted to give you something that was just for you. But, if I’m being honest with you, I did rather like Hank. Before he made out like he was rich, before the yacht nonsense. I saw a man with a son who he cared about, like I care for you, and we wanted the same things. I thought he was a good man.’

‘I think he is a good man,’ I admit. ‘I think he only wanted to impress you.’

‘The yacht was nice, sure, but it wasn’t what I was looking for,’ she replies. ‘I was looking for excitement, but stability too. And real love, if that’s not too much to ask for.’