The cap of the water bottle is off and safely in the grasp of my right hand.

I have the rim pressed against my lips.

I am so ready for this.

"Wait!" Harry cries as if I'm about to unknowingly step out in front of a car. My eyes squint at his concerned expression but I don't remove the bottle from my mouth.

He hasn't even taken the cap off of his yet.

"Until we know where/if there is another water source on this island - which I'm thinking there must be given the vegetation - then we need to ration this water." He licks his lips but it doesn't moisten them. He needs to drink. He needs to stop talking and take a goddamn drink. "I'm thinking three sips every ten minutes."

"You do realise there is no way to keep track of time here?" I say into the bottle. My words reverberate.

Unless Harry is planning on counting one elephant, two elephants in ten minute intervals then I'm not sure how he's planning to proceed with this plan.

I know he's right though.

I just don't want him to be.

I want to down the entire contents of this bottle to revive my organs from the shrivelled up pieces of parchment that they've undoubtedly become. I'm not sure I can survive on "three sips every ten minutes".

It's too tempting to guzzle the lot.

"I mean it, Sarah. If/when we find more water, you can drink til your heart's content." He starts unscrewing the cap off his bottle. Finally.

"I know." I sigh. And I do know, I really do. I don't want him thinking I'm being a brat. I think I'm just whatever the thirsty version is of 'hangry'.

Thangry?

Perhaps dehydrated is more appropriate.

We take our three sips and they are the best three sips of water I've ever had. They're slightly warm having been stored inside a tightly packed suitcase on a scorching hot island but I'd drink scalding water right now if I had to.

Temperature regardless, it's still water.

It's difficult to gather the self control to stop though. I almost slip up and go in for a fourth sip. Harry almost does too.

"Ok." We say simultaneously and reluctantly hold the bottles at arm's length to reseal the caps.

I know I'm probably better off for having drunk something but my headache pounds on. Like a drum. A drum hidden deep within my skull. Given Harry's drinking rule, I know it'll be a long time before it relents.

He swallows awkwardly and rubs the pad of his thumb against his chin. I grimace because I know he's about to be all sensible again and some sort of task is going to be required.

"We need to make a shelter. I think it'll get really cold at night and given we've already found ourselves in one storm, I wouldn't be surprised if we get another at some point."

I have to praise Harry for being so on the ball. And also for speaking about future events.

If I'm being brutally honest, unless we find a waterfall and an already assembled tent - I'm feeling doubtful about seeing the end of the week.

It suddenly hits me that I don't even know what day it is. How long was I unconscious and floating in the sea? I can't even remember how long we had been flying for before we hit the storm.

I've never felt so disorientated in my life.

I press my fingers against my temple and ignore the fat droplets of sadness and confusion cascading down my face. My sunburnt cheeks sting with the contact.

My skull continues its drumming.

"Sarah?" Harry is quick to reach me. He puts a single handle on my right shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. It stings there too. "What is it?"

"It just keeps hitting me." I mumble from behind the barrier of my hands. "I can't believe this has happened to us. Harry, statistically we should be dead."

Harry prizes my hands away from my face and holds them down by my sides. My eyes stay focused on the sand wedged between my toes.

"But we're alive, Sarah. And we have to make the most of it. I appreciate that being alive doesn't mean much out here but we have to persevere. We can do this." It's impossible for me to understand where his positivity is stemming from. Especially when my positivity pot is completely and utterly empty.

"Ok." I respond quietly. Harry squeezes my hands one last time before dropping them and stepping away.

"Now. Follow me."

He scoops up the pile of clothes he's scavenged and steps out from the shade under the palm trees. I do the same; balancing the large floppy sun hat on the top of my pile and follow him out into the sun. It's still so hot. I can't imagine it ever being any other temperature here.

We arrange our items in the sand so that they can dry out before continuing on towards the shoreline, water bottles in hand. Harry veers off towards a mound of rocks. I go to follow but am momentarily distracted by sea foam bubbling up and over my feet.

I close my eyes and pretend that I really am at the beach. A real beach.

Jules sits beside me; two scoops of mango sorbet balanced on a waffle cone in one hand and a mojito slushy in the other. Her string bikini top is beyond 'skimpy' - it's about three sizes two small. Her breasts are basically bulging out the sides but apparently "".

She's eyed up every passing male in the last hour.

I'm beyond embarrassed but I wouldn't change her for the world. She's always been more of a big sister than an aunt and therefore embarrassing me is her prerogative. I'm ok with that.

I eat my own sorbet and slide my oversized sunglasses back up my nose from where they have slid down. It's so peaceful here.

"What about the lifeguard?" She says to me, peering over the top of her own glasses at a guy a few feet from where we're sat.

He's ok I suppose. Not my type but ok. I close my eyes as the sun settles on my face, ignoring the icecream dripping onto my knuckles.

"I wouldn't mind a go on him!" She squeals. My jaw drops. He's got to be half her age!

"Sarah?" She nudges me. "Hello, Earth to Sarah?"

I open my eyes to tell her to give it a rest.

But it's not Jules.

It's Harry.

"Sarah? Everything ok?" He's come back from the rocks to join me. His face says he's wondering what on earth I'm doing.

I'm wondering the same.

"Yes, all good." I give him a cheesy double thumbs up and he raises a single eyebrow, clearly amused and also not entirely believing me.

"Right...well, I've found something that I think we can use." He sounds quite excited. As if he's found a goldmine.

The tired, sunburnt expression he's been wearing has been replaced by a youthful kid at Christmas.

I'm happy for him.

He leads me over to where he had been looking and points at a large, filthy metallic object bashing up against the rocks with the tide. It's definitely taller than him in height and reasonably thick too. The edges are rounded as if it was made to fit over a hole.

"Harry," I say. "Is that the plane door?"

"Yep." He bites his lip, waiting on my reaction.

My stomach churns at the concept of the aircraft, the crew and the passengers drifting in the sea surrounding us. But I hold back the vomit that threatens to rise.

Over my dead body am I getting rid of my three precious sips of water.

"Is ten minutes up yet?" I ask, changing the subject entirely.

Harry nods and we unscrew our bottles.

Three sips later, I speak again.

"So. What's the plan?" I focus back on the plane door.

"If we can get this up the beach and lean it against a tree, we'll at least have something to shelter behind. We can break off the palm leaves to use as a bed or a cover and we've got all those t-shirts I found." He can obviously picture it in his head and that's good enough for me.

"Ok." I try and say enthusiastically. "I suppose we better try and move this then?"

Goodness knows how. It's probably heavier than the two of us combined.

"I'll get in with the door and push it up if you can try and pull it onto the rocks. I appreciate that neither of us are even remotely hydrated enough for this but we can do this, Sarah."

I nod and we place our water bottles on the sand next to us. Moments later Harry slides over the rocks and into the sea.

It's only waist high on him at this point but his eyes screw shut at the contact of the salt water on his sunburn. I sympathise, my tears were bad enough.

He wades up to the door and positions his hands against it, one at each of the two rounded corners. He shoves it up against the rocks, steadying it so that I can ready myself. I step forward and grasp the opposing corners. It's difficult​ to get a good trip given that the smooth surface is now wet and slippery.

"Got it?" Harry asks, squinting up at me.

"Got it!" I clench my teeth as I try to maintain my hold.

"On the count of three!" Harry yells. "One...two..."

I brace myself.

"Three!"

Harry pushes as I attempt to pull; my fingers slip and slide and it's near impossible to bring the door any closer to myself. I'm sure that Harry is doing all the work but even still, I realise a moment too late that I've lost my grasp and the door is sliding back in his direction.

"Harry!" I cry. He manages to jump to the side just as the door goes crashing into his path. It hits the water with a loud smack and sends a spray up into the air.

"Bollocks!" He huffs and begins scrabbling about for it in the water again.

"I'm sorry!" I squeak. "It's really slippery, I just can't keep ahold of it." My eyes sting with tears. I'm exhausted and I know I'm partly to blame for this failed attempt.

"Don't be sorry." Harry says. I watch him shove the plane door back up against the rocks. "You come down here and I'll do the pulling. I've got larger hands."

I hope he doesn't think I'm incapable. Damn my small hands.

I climb over the rock mound, careful not to slip, and plummet into the sea. It comes up a little higher on me and I inhale sharply as it meets my own singed skin.

I place my hands next to where Harry's are positioned and give him a quick nod to let him know that I've got it.

It's heavy. Really bloody heavy.

I have to dig my feet into the wet sand to anchor myself in.

Harry climbs out quickly and grabs the door. Already everything feels so much more stable this time. Excitement bubbles in my stomach.

"On my count again, Sarah." He yells. "One...two...three!"

I bury my feet further as I push with all my might.

There's a bump as the door meets a ledge in the rocks but I can feel Harry on the other end, bringing it towards him. Within seconds the door is sliding up and over. Harry jumps out of the way to avoid the crushing of his toes just as I break my fall against the rocks with my hands.

We did it.

He extends an arm to help me out of the water and I accept it gratefully.

We share a brief exchange of a small smile before rewarding ourselves with another three sips.

If I thought I was exhausted before then I'm near comatose now.

"I really hate to be the one to have to say this," Harry smirks. "But we've got to get this up the beach now."

Dear God.

"There is no way that I can carry that." I tell him. "We can just push it along in the sand."

"It's not a sled!" He laughs. "But fine."

I haven't got it in me to banter back. Not if I need to exert myself again to get the door where it actually needs to be.

We stand side by side at the end of the door closest to the sea and tuck our water bottles under our arms. On Harry's count, we learn forward and begin to push.

It's hard.

It's so heavy that it the opposing end keeps burying itself rather than passing smoothly over the sand.

I can feel myself getting frustrated and close to tears.

"Nearly there." Harry encourages through gritted teeth. "Not much further to go."

Soon enough, he's right. The palm trees loom up in front of us and I find it in me to push harder and walk faster, ignoring the black spots beginning to invade my vision. Harry does the same and eventually - we make it.

"Hallelujah!" He cries and collapses on his back in the sand with a big smile stretched across his face. I'm half expecting him to start making a sand angel.

"Hallelujah, indeed." I puff as I try to get my breath back. I bend forward and grip my knees.

I'm pretty sure I can see stars and the island has definitely started to spin.

"Sarah, are you ok?" I'm vaguely aware of Harry pulling himself to his feet and approaching me. Except there's two of him and there are two plane doors.

And my head.

Oh my god, my head is pounding.

"Please stop drumming." I mumble because seriously, someone needs to make it stop. It's too much now and I can't take anymore.

"Huh? Sarah, what are you talking about? Do you want to sit down?" He's still approaching me.

I think.

My knees give way and I sway sideways, falling into a black mass.