Sophie Kinsella

My voice shrills out

Rilston Bay. It’s tugging at my heart. Could I really go there?

A halloumi and falafel wrap.

If you’re not kind, never mind.

‘Kids, you have to enjoy the ride. The ride is it.’ ”

“I mean, you could do all this,” he says as he reaches the end. “Or you could, you know, enjoy yourself. You’re on holiday, right? Here to have fun?”

You’re never failing, you’re learning. Learning how to manage the sea and how to manage yourself. Everything you did today, right or wrong, was experience. Experience! Can’t beat it. And you’ll learn from it, just you wait.

Why did I wipe out?”

“Because you tried,” says Terry simply. “You tried, my dear. And that puts you above most people.”

“The thing you must remember is to enjoy the ride.” He looks at me with a sharp blue gaze, and just for an instant I’m looking at the old Terry. “Enjoy every moment. Because if you don’t, what’s the point? The ride is it.”

“So you refuse. You say no.”

“No doesn’t work. They just pile on more tasks.”

“So you threaten to move on. You leave jobs undone and explain why you didn’t have time to complete them. You create boundaries and stick to them.”