‘It’s Britain’s highest rollercoaster,’ Sophie said excitedly, her nerves tingling with anticipation as the car trundled to the top of the ride. ‘Wow! Look at that!’ Breathing in the crisp, salty air, she glanced out over the bird’s-eye view of the seafront they had from almost sixty-five metres up. It had been raining when she and Chloe had come before, grey and gloomy, but today, with the sun bouncing like jewels off the water, the sight was spectacular. She was really glad she’d come now. She’d felt like crap when she’d finally woken up, woozy and headachy, having slept really heavily. She’d been sure she was coming down with the flu. Paul had said she’d feel better for a day out. He’d been right.

‘You’ll have to hold on tight.’ Her adrenaline pumping, her chest now about to burst with anticipation, she turned to Paul as they reached the dizzying summit of the climb, from where they would hurtle back to earth, leaving their stomachs behind them. ‘We’re going to drop at, like, eighty miles an— Oh.’

Paul was holding on for grim death. She noted his white-knuckled grip, his eyes squeezed tight, his complexion, which was a sickly shade of green. Shoot. He really was scared of heights.

Sophie was about to try to reassure him when her breath was snatched from her mouth, her insides turning inside out as they plunged, rolled, twisted and spun.

‘Shit.’ She regurgitated her tonsils as they swooped to a stop, her heart thumping so manically she was sure it would leap right out of her chest. ‘Are you all right?’ She turned quickly to Paul, who was grappling to get out of his seat.

Scrambling out when the safety bars where released, Paul didn’t answer, heading fast away from what had obviously been pure torture for him.

‘Paul?’ Sophie caught up with him where he’d stopped, clutching his thighs and taking deep breaths. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes,’ Paul managed, and nodded.

‘Are you sure? You look terrible. I didn’t realise you were that scared. Do you want to go and find somewhere to sit—’

‘I’m fine!’ Paul snapped, causing Sophie to take a step back. He’d been really cool up until then, laughing and joking. He hadn’t minded at all about getting soaked on the spooky water ride and he’d been fine on the Grand National. To Sophie, the ancient wooden rollercoaster, clunking and grinding, was way scarier than the ride on the Big One.

‘Sorry,’ he said quickly, straightening up and arranging his face into a smile. ‘I felt a bit nauseous for a minute. I’m fine now,’ he reassured her, placing an arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on, let’s go and do something tamer, where we can keep our feet on the ground.’

Sophie had quite fancied seeing the Tower, but maybe that wasn’t such a great idea, given his phobia. ‘Go-karting?’ she suggested.

‘And that’s supposed to be tamer?’ He arched an eyebrow.

‘Oh, right.’ Sophie guessed he probably wouldn’t want to be whizzing around bends and stuff. ‘The casino?’ she ventured.

Paul didn’t look impressed. ‘I don’t really approve of gambling, Sophie, sorry. How about the Star Trek exhibition?’

‘Sounds good.’ Sophie nodded. It wasn’t exactly her first choice, but she supposed he was paying.

‘Excellent.’ Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he gave her a smile and led her on. ‘And then food,’ he suggested. ‘Hopefully, I’ll have got my appetite back by then.’

---

Paul wasn’t enthralled with the exhibition, Sophie gathered. It wasn’t as exciting as she’d expected, but it was okay. She’d thought sitting in the captain’s chair of the original Starship Enterprise was cool. Paul, though, didn’t seem to rate it much.

‘So what did you think?’ Noting his pensive expression as they walked out, she tested the waters.

‘Not worth the entrance fee, in my opinion,’ Paul said. ‘Considering how vast the Star Trek universe is supposed to be, the exhibition was extremely small, wasn’t it? And I didn’t see any evidence of the Star Trek: Discovery props as promised by the signage outside.’

He was obviously a Trekkie. Shrugging, she quickened her pace to keep up with him as he strode off.

‘What do you fancy to eat?’ he asked her, his smile back in place a second later.

Sophie plumped for chips. ‘You have to have chips at the seaside.’

‘Really?’ Paul’s smile dwindled. ‘Well, it is your day out. Okay, chips it is.’

Five minutes later, his smile dwindled further as Sophie pointed out the pier-front burger and chips kiosk. ‘I think I prefer to eat mine with a knife and fork,’ he suggested, obviously not keen to eat his chips walking along the seafront, which Sophie had quite fancied. There was nothing quite like eating chips drenched in salt and vinegar straight from the paper, as far as she was concerned.

Noting his unenthusiastic expression, she shrugged easily. ‘Okay,’ she said. They’d probably come in a cone anyway, and that wasn’t quite the same.

‘How about here then?’ she asked, pointing out a Burger King a few minutes later.

Again, Paul didn’t look that taken with the idea. Sophie was beginning to wonder whether he even wanted chips.

‘Kentucky?’ she tried, another few shops on.

Paul looked no better impressed. ‘What about over there?’ He nodded across the road. ‘It looks a bit more salubrious, don’t you think?’

Sophie didn’t quite get why eating chips had to be done salubriously, but the curiosity coffee shop he was indicating looked kind of cute, and now at the point where her belly was thinking her throat had been cut, she’d go for anywhere that served food.

Grabbing a window seat, Sophie perused the menu hungrily, though she’d already chosen her order from the board behind the counter. Veggie burger and chips – had to be. She was practically fantasising chips now. ‘Done,’ she said, handing the menu to Paul with a smile. ‘What do you fancy?’

Paul frowned. ‘A clean table,’ he said, wiping two fingers along the surface of it, examining them and then sighing audibly. Taking the menu with a shake of his head, he scanned it leisurely, finally deciding on beef stroganoff.

Sophie wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t know how people eat meat,’ she said. ‘I mean, I wouldn’t judge anybody, but personally, I couldn’t eat another living creature if my life depended on it.’

‘It’s dead, Sophie,’ Paul pointed out, his smile a bit short this time. ‘And I doubt many carnivorous animals would give you the same consideration if the situation were reversed.’

Oops. Sophie reprimanded herself. He probably thought she was criticising him. ‘I know. It’s just a personal choice and, like I say, live and let live. Or rather, eat and let eat.’ She shrugged and gave him a bright smile.

Paul’s smile was more relaxed then. ‘I’ll order,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you go and wash your hands.’

Sophie followed his gaze as he nodded towards the loos, and then looked back at him, perplexed. She didn’t need to go to the… Ah. She got the gist as he turned to summon one of the waiting staff. He meant actually wash her hands. A bit fastidious, wasn’t he? She knitted her brow. But then, she supposed she had been hanging on to rides where a million other sweaty hands had been clinging on for dear life.

Fair enough. Hoping the food wouldn’t be long, she humoured him.

Her hope faded when she came back to see a coachload of old-age pensioners coming in. Looked like the service was going to be slow. Sighing inwardly, Sophie took her seat and tried to ignore her rumbling tummy. ‘So, what do you do in Dubai?’ she asked him, distracting Paul from checking his watch.

‘Investment advice,’ he said. ‘All a bit dull really, unless you’re into financial planning.’

Sophie tried not to look too bored. ‘Do you mind if I ask you when you lost your family?’ she ventured.

Paul looked down at that. ‘It’s a bit painful, to be honest,’ he said. ‘Maybe another time. We don’t want to spoil the day, do we? Tell me about yourself. What do you want to do when you leave school?’

‘Veterinary surgeon,’ Sophie answered straight off. ‘I was hoping to do my undergraduate course at the Royal Veterinary College, but I’m thinking that might depend on whether I can get a student loan now.’

Paul eyed her interestedly. ‘Oh, how so?’

‘Stuff,’ Sophie sighed. ‘You know, at home.’

‘Ah, I see. I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Sophie. I can cover your study costs,’ Paul said, smiling benevolently.

Sophie’s eyes grew wide. ‘Really?’

‘I’d have to run it by your mother first, but yes, I don’t see why not. I’m supposed to be looking out for you, aren’t I?’

‘Well, yes, but…’ Her uni fees? Wow. How cool would it be to have those covered?

‘Unless you want to have a word with your mother, that is?’ Paul asked.

‘No.’ Uh-uh. She absolutely did not want to have a word with her mother. Not any words, any time soon. But what about Justin? How would he feel?

She was debating whether to broach the subject with Paul when she noticed he was checking his watch again and looking agitatedly around for signs of their food.

Justin would feel relieved, Sophie guessed, turning to gaze out of the window. He wouldn’t want the responsibility now, would he? He’d hardly want to pay out thousands of pounds for someone who wasn’t his daughter. It might have been different if he’d known she wasn’t his from the outset. He would have had a choice then. Who knows, he might have decided he wanted to be her father. Her mum had taken that away from him, though, hadn’t she? She should seriously consider Paul’s offer, she decided. Show them that the choices about her life weren’t theirs to make.

Paul was growing more agitated, she realised. He was rearranging the cutlery on the table, lining up knives and forks and condiments and then checking his watch again. Finally, breathing in a tight breath, he gestured a beleaguered looking waitress over. ‘Is there any chance of actually getting served today?’ he asked her irritably. ‘We have a long journey home.’

The girl, not much older than Sophie, a student probably, looked flustered, and offered to go and hurry it up.

Five minutes later, smiling apologetically, she placed their meals in front of them.

Sophie had started ravenously on her chips when Paul plonked his knife and fork down, clinking his plate as he did. ‘Waitress,’ he called – loudly. ‘This is lukewarm, undercooked and, frankly, inedible.’

Sophie shifted uncomfortably as the now embarrassed girl retrieved his plate and scuttled back towards the kitchen.

‘Sorry about that,’ Paul said, his smile back again as he wiped his mouth on his napkin, folded it up and looked in Sophie’s direction. ‘I hope it didn’t spoil your meal.’

‘No,’ Sophie assured him. Hers had been fine. She was about to suggest he maybe should have had chips after all, but then thought better of it.

‘Good,’ he said, reaching for the hand in which she was still holding her fork and giving it a squeeze. ‘I’d hate my daughter to be disappointed on her special day out.’