The first day at school was a nightmare, English accent, Irish school, not a good mix. Everyone ignored me. Not for the first time I thought how much I hated dad for bringing us out here. He was returning to his roots and getting away from mum at the same time. But where did that leave me? Stuck in the middle of thirty Irish kids like the only vicar at an orgy. The teachers did their best, but I got the impression that even they wouldn’t lend me a bucket of water if I was on fire. I went home after that and felt like weeping. Dad got home from work in a better mood than I had left him.

“I take it the business is working out for you?” I said, trying to keep the glumness I felt out of my voice.

He said, “There’s a future here for my work, Stuart. We’re going to be okay.”

He ruffled my hair and got on with making dinner. He was an artist and graphic designer. He’d had meetings all day with some influential local businessmen and they had not been able to conceal their delight at his talent. It didn’t surprise me. He had been on his way to making a name for himself in London when things went belly up with mum. He said he couldn’t work anymore, he had lost his inspiration, because of all the arguments. Meanwhile mum was stressed at work too, coming home like an over-wound elastic band and hitting the wine. Then he began to suspect she was having an affair and that was the end of it. Before I knew what was happening I’m staring at a wind-blasted rock and the raging Atlantic and surrounded by people who talk like Terry Wogan.

The second day at school was better. Mainly because I met Mary. Mary, unlike the others in my class, seemed to be taken with my accent. I was more than taken with not only her accent but everything about her. I think Mary was fed up with all the boys in her class and saw me as a new challenge. Whatever the reason, she spent a lot of time with me during break, enough to get everybody else’s back up. She really is beautiful. I went home skipping. Dad came home happy too, his first contract already signed. He was going to design the next brochure for the biggest zoo in the county. I looked at the wind-blasted rock through my bedroom window and wondered if dad wasn’t right – perhaps we could make this work.