Put some vinegar on your lemon, and let that be a lesson to your nan, that good ocean lore doesn’t mean you should wear hats wider than your head. The sea is boundless and she swore she once knew a dolphin who cried in her sleep, because the black was an endless lonely place, bigger and deeper than any dirt floors us humans knew, or dreamt of.

A crab sang Disney tunes to the dolphin one night, and her smile overrode the current, and she floated, drifting along the sea bed. By morning the crab was gone, and my nan’s hat had long fallen off her head. The dolphin learnt how to cry, and plays her little tear instrument to anybody who’ll listen. My nan, itching the same patch of skin she’d always itch, looked out the window and told me how the ocean is built out of all our tears. All our tears. None of them are ever lost.