His shadow looks like a black hole absorbed into the path as it's cast down from his slumped failing body against the iron gates, holding on with what little strength still resides within him.

The panic I know only too well bubbles back up as I race to him, Liten Vampyr has also seen her precious little Viking and runs to his side in what seems like a blink of an eye.

She places herself under his arm, then gently raises him up, so she can steady him in fear he'll fall and smash into a thousand pieces, the fragility we've lived with is creeping back.

"What's happened ? Are you ok ?".

Her eyes raise to him as if her words could break his soul, she does not want to take the last piece of fight away from him but she knows it cannot go unsaid.

"The blood can only work for so long, he had only a little, it masks the pain all the time it pumps within him so his body can function; once the flow has stopped the pain comes flooding back".

I digest what she's saying. "Then we must get him home ....NOW".

"No," my father's voices echoes through the night air and bounces back. I'm sure it echoed up to the castle and back. "I want to go sit on the beach, I want to feel the pebbles under my feet and the water on my toes".

"That's ridiculous, we need to get you home, give you something for the pain".

He rolls his eyes at me like a mardy teenager, then  growls at me, half in disgust and half overwhelmed by pain. "More tablets, more medicine, more staring at four walls, more waiting for this all to be fucking over with; no Oscar, tonight I will not let that be my life".

"I'm just trying to help you Dad".

"Then help me Lilla du, don't put me back in that room tonight, a room that is no more than a guilded cage. It's  to keep me safe but it keeps all life out, away from both of us".

His words ring in my ears because I know what he's saying is the truth. I walk over to him and slip under his other arm to hoist him up with Liten Vampyr. I'm well aware she does not need my help but he's my father, he has carried me many times throughout my life when I needed his support, now it's my turn to return the sentiment.

His grumbles start to rumble out of him like a volcano ready to erupt but I cut them short, "so which beach are you wishing to go to?"

I catch a smile creep on Liten Vampyr's face as dad rests his tired head on my shoulder and whispers, "thank you, let's go to where I would take you crabbing when you was a boy".

As the night air had come upon us so had the breeze that comes off the sea, locals who have lived in Whitstable all their lives were used to the wind that blew off the sea and straight through your bones like a cutting knife; a chill that only gets deeper the closer you get to the sea. But this evening, instead of stinging our bones and whipping at our faces, the wind was almost warm and encouraging, blowing us in the direction we needed to go.

Silence of the night is broken as the clanking of wheels beating down hard on the pavement approaches us. It's Bell's feral boys. They slow down as they glide beside us.

Without them saying a word, Liten Vampyr addresses them. "Thank Bell for sending you, but it will not be necessary. Oscar and I will be fine escorting Lucas".

Their eyes dart to dad, awaiting conformation- still weary from their last encounter with Liten Vampyr, it appears she leaves a lasting impression on everyone she meets.

Dad musters up a broken smile. "Thank you boys, we will be fine, thank Bell for me and for all you've done tonight. Tell her I owe her a drink".

They all nod in unison, head bowing down low like little soldiers to their captain, their ultimate sign of respect.

With that, like wild animals they flee, disappearing into the concrete jungle that is their home, flying on the paths, through the streets on their bikes darting in and out of the night, amongst the shadows and back to their precious Bell.

We kept a steady pace as we slowly trudge down from the castle, past the laundrette that had been there since  the beginning of time and always pouring out a fresh linen smell, then past the bowling alley where the local teenagers hang around awaiting for trouble to come their way. We walked through the harbour that is the heart of Whitstable; it beats with its constant coming and going of ships full of fish that fed, nourished and supported this little seaside town.

His breathing became slower and more concentrated as he wills himself to make it, as soon as I saw the lifeboat station, hope washes over me. We are nearly here.

A stone throw from there, was where all the boats rested on the pebbles like sleeping monsters waiting for the mighty sea to awaken them from their slumbers. This was where me and my dad would go crabbing.

Crashing waves called us in closer like a mermaids song beckoning us near.I stopped, bent down and slipped off his shoes and slung them down on the ground. His toes wriggled and stretched out deep into the pebbles as if the ground was centering him.

Even the retched seagulls squawking ceased as we approached, as if they didn't want to interrupt the moment.

The never ending ocean is stretched out in front of us, one of the few places on Earth not truly understood or dominated by man. It's funny, I've lived here all my life but I feel as if I'm seeing it for the first time, or at least stopping long enough to appreciate what's been under my nose the whole time. It's beautiful tranquility washes over us.

The sea wind whistles through dad's whispy hair, his misty eyes water as the weight of his relief washes over him that he'd finally made it.

"Are you ok, dad?" I whisper.

"I'm better than ok, I'm at peace lilla du. I never thought I'd see the sea again with you".