“I have been acutely aware of the noise of the wash. The slow, steady beat of those little waves lapping the shore sounds like the rhythm of an ancient heart. And I know that this place is old, so old time doesn’t matter.”

“This is its ancient soul, the quiet place, away from all its beats and rhythms. And my mind is unable to comprehend the sheer expanse of it. It’s as though I’ve suddenly blinked and found myself standing on a tightrope strung between two skyscrapers. I am paralysed by awe. The feeling you get when confronted by something infinite and inevitable and indifferent to you.”

“And we’re both emotionally limping, because having old wounds re-opened is never fun, no matter how beneficial it might be.”

“I draw the light with my fingers, and it seems to spark in response. And it’s then that the magic of this place, this night beach, gets to me. Because that sparkling thing could be anything. A fallen star, a little buried sun. I feel like I’m a kid again. When there was so much to see. So much wonder.”

“After a while I get the feeling that Mum and Brian aren’t home. Kane either. It’s because the house is making so much noise; ticking and creaking as it stretches in the sun. Acting like a house does when nobody’s around to see it. It must have forgotten about me.”

“It was something they'd done a thousand times before. If Jamie went surfing with a mate and paddled in first, he always took time for that final wave. And there was something so familiar in the ritual that for a moment he felt like everything was right.He felt forgiven.”

“I’m already moving towards the kitchen as I say this, because one thing I’ve learned is that you never, ever enter negotiations with a three-and-a-half-year old. It’s like negotiating with terrorists.”