My hair's still damp and sprawled around me like angry flames; tangled in the leaves of the palm cushioning me against the sand. I've managed to curl up into the smallest foetal position possible with my arms locked around my knees in an iron grip.

But my hands are still shaking.

And they ache from the repetitive digging motion I found myself carrying out for what felt like hours. But I know the relentless tremors are not the result of physical overexertion or the fact that the temperature has greatly reduced. It's the shock. It's always the shock. And the shock of burying the plane victims was far worse than going through their possessions or seeing them washed up and waterlogged on the shore.

Harry and I didn't exchange words once. There were tears. So many tears from both parties but neither one of us strong enough in that moment to comfort the other. All that hope and optimism built up from just splashing around a pool of water - instantly diminished.

I can hear him now; breathing gently into the night while I'm facing away and staring into the empty space between myself and the plane door. I wonder if his hands are currently as unstable as my own or if he can see them each time he lets his guard down and allows his eyelids to flutter closed for those brief half-seconds.

"Are you awake?" Harry's voice suddenly cuts through the silence and echos in my ears. My heart rate picks up at the prospect of having to talk about this. I can't do it, I just can't. But I can't leave Harry alone with this thoughts and I will not let him suffer in silence.

"Yes." I reply but it's barely a whisper. There's the sound of shuffling as if Harry is rolling over or re-positioning himself on his make shift bed and I lay in anticipation of whatever he might say next.

"So, where is home?" He asks eventually. I release a huge breath I hadn't even known I was holding and suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed with relief at the realisation that Harry doesn't want to discuss what has happened either.

"Ilford." I manage to tell him, swallowing back the memories of the home I'm not sure I'll ever see again; a red brick building five minutes from the town centre containing the lilac walls of my bedroom littered with polaroids of myself and Addie and the window seat in the lounge that has become home to numerous soft toys over the years.

"So you're a London girl." Harry states, even managing a cheerful tone. I feel my lips twitch into a smile but I can't quite bring myself to see it through.

"And what about you?" I reciprocate, allowing my posture to relax a little. I can almost hear Addie in my head, screaming millions upon millions of facts about Harry. She'd be horrified if she heard me asking him right now.

"I'm very lucky to be able to call many places 'home'." Harry tells me. "But it's Cheshire, really. Holmes Chapel. My Mum lives there still." I notice how he waivers towards the end of the sentence, there's a slight wobble in his voice at the mention of his mother and I have to bite down onto my lower lip to stop myself doing the same. "But tell me about Jules."

Where to begin with Jules?

My big sister, my fairy godmother, my carefree aunt.

I release my knees and allow myself to get into a more comfortable position; tucking my hands beneath my cheeks dampened by my hair.

"I'm an only child." I say out loud, vaguely aware of Harry's warm breath lightly tickling the back of my neck. "So Jules has always been the big sister I never had. My parents work a lot - they have their own accountancy firm in the town centre, so Jules was always generally assigned to keep me occupied when I was little."

As I tell Harry, I'm reminded of day trips to the cinema and Valentines Park and even train journeys into London. I loved my parents but their absence meant an exciting day. It meant I was going to have an adventure. Without Jules, I definitely would have had a lonely childhood.

"And then when I was ten, the company she worked for asked her to manage their branch in Kuala Lumpur so she moved there but she always promised me a Malaysian Summer."

"And that's why you were on the plane." Harry says quietly.

"And that's why I was on the plane." I repeat painfully, trying not to think about Jules waiting in arrivals or the moment she sees the disaster on the news. My parents too, thinking they've lost their child. They never approved of the long-haul trip, not wanting me to go so far on my own despite being twenty-three. I just hope they don't blame her for me being on that plane in the first place.

"How did you manage to book three weeks off of work?" Harry asks curiously. "That's a generous holiday allowance."

Trust Harry to be interested in the formalities.

"I'm a teaching assistant at a local primary school." I explain quickly, skimming over my thoughts of children and the tiny body brought in with the tide. "It's the summer holidays now. It's the perfect time to see Jules."

"Did she ever visit you in Ilford?" Harry asks before yawning loudly.

"Oh yes." I smile into the darkness. "Every Christmas and for two weeks in the summer holidays. I used to count down the days until I would see her again and every Sunday that she was with us, we would go and have brunch at this cafe called Marley's. I swear they do the best blueberry pancakes."

Fat droplets of water run over my smiling lips but surely it can't be raining? It takes me a moment to realise that I'm crying. But I don't feel sad. I feel thankful. And if my life was to go no further than this island, I might almost be ok with that.

It's my turn to yawn now. I feel physically and mentally exhausted but I want to keep my life in Ilford alive and talking to Harry about it seems to do just that. He mumbles something as my eyelids flicker closed and I strain my ears to listen but-

"Wake up, sleepyhead." There's a shove against my left arm and I snap my eyelids open.

The sun is beaming down on me and I'm absolutely baking hot. I've knocked a glass over beside me and there's coloured liquid seeping into the sand and my beach towel.

"Welcome back to Earth." A voice chuckles. It's Jules. "You've been out for hours."

"I was tired." I shrug and stretch my stiffened limbs. "Did I miss much?"

"Plenty of eye candy!" Jules squeals, slurping on her drink. "But I don't think your drooling and snoring beside me did much for my own sex appeal."

"Oh, stop!" I laugh and give her a gentle nudge.

She starts to speak about something else but her voice is drowned out by the sound of an engine overhead. We look up, startled to hear it so close and my eyes widen.

It's a plane.

There's smoke pouring out the back and it's making a beeline for the sea.

"Jules!" I shriek and pull her up off her towel. She grips my hand but we're suddenly torn apart, streams of water sliding through my fingers where hers should have been.

I open my mouth to scream but inhale mouthfuls of water instead. I kick and kick and kick and...

"Sarah, wake up!"

My eyes fly open to find one of Harry' strong arms around my waist, pinning me to his front. I'm sweaty and shivering but most definitely not drowning.

"Sorry." I pant, suddenly feeling awfully embarrassed about Harry seeing me in such a state. "Bad dream."

"I'll say." He sounds concerned and doesn't release his grip. "You were screaming Jules' name and kicking your legs about."

Mortified is an understatement.

We lay in silence, waiting for my heart to slow it's erratic beating and for my pride to heal. I can't help wondering if this nightmare is going to be a regular occurrence. It's the second time I've had the misfortune of experiencing it and I don't fancy a third. With my back in such close proximity to his chest, I can feel Harry's heart racing too. I hadn't meant to startle him.

"You can let go of me now if you want to get back to sleep." I say, blush burning furiously in my cheeks. I don't want him to think I'm needy or unable to get myself off to sleep, plus the fact that my hair is now glued to the sides of face with an adhesive of sweat.

Attractive.

"If it's alright with you, I think I'll stay here." Harry doesn't seem at all phased by the fact that he's essentially spooning me whereas I'm only just realising how socially awkward I really am. I lay in his embrace rigid like a plank of wood.

"Oh, ok." I stammer and blink into the darkness.

"Is that alright with you?" Harry presses.

I can't deny that after the day we've had, being held is incredibly comforting. Even if I do look and feel as though I've spent hours at the gym. I haven't even considered the associated smell.

"Of course." I reply quietly and lick my lips.

Harry pulls me closer to his chest and sighs. Within seconds, I hear his breathing change and I know he's already fast asleep.

But I remain wide eyed and too terrified to sleep right through until the first orange hue of sunrise hits the island.