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Richard pats my back. “We’ll keep you safe. It’ll be fun—something a little different. I mean, you’ve never climbed a wind turbine before, right?”

“Er, no. This is definitely going to be a first for me.”

We get geared up, Joe and Richard talk me through some safety procedures, then we head into the base of the turbine.

“There are two rest platforms on the way up where you can take a wee break,” Joe explains. “Just to warn you, it is quite a climb—it keeps me and Richard fit.”

At the bottom of the first ladder, he shows me how to connect to the fall arrest system, which will catch me should I slip. Peering up at the ladder’s intimidating height, I’m relieved there’s a safeguard.

Joe heads up first. I’ll be going in the middle, with Richard following behind. As I watch Joe ascend, I’m glad we picked this order. He’s a nice guy, but if anyone is going to be staring up at my arse while I climb, I’d rather it were Richard.

Once I’m clipped in and it’s my turn to go, my knees tremble and my palms become clammy. Thanks, body. That won’t make this any easier.

“I’m really nervous,” I admit.

“You’ll be fine,” Richard assures me. “You’ve got this.”

I nod then make a start, a rung at a time, each step echoing in the confined space. Soon I understand why Joe said scaling turbines keeps him fit—it’s like a session at the gym. When I eventually reach the top of the first ladder, my heart is thumping fast and I’m breathing heavily.

After a rest, we continue, the hum of machinery and the occasional whoosh of wind echoing through the tower. The entire structure sways gently in the breeze, which the men assure me it’s supposed to do, although their words don’t stop my stomach from doing little flips.

Finally we reach the “nacelle” at the top, where the generator lives. There’s limited space here, but we all fit.

“Oh my God,” I say, catching my breath. “We made it! I can’t believe I did that.”

Richard and Joe exchange an amused glance.

“You’ve done really well,” Richard says. “But . . . we still have to go through there.” He points to a hatch in the ceiling.

“We’re going outside? You’re kidding? We’re ninety metres in the air—off the top of a hill!”

Richard lays a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but . . . I did ask you to trust me, and you’ve already come this far. We might as well take in the view, right?”

I swallow hard. “Fuck it. Let’s do this.”

The lads cheer. Again, Joe goes first, attaching a safety lanyard to himself then pushing open the hatch and climbing through it. I clip myself in next, take a very deep breath, then hoist myself up and out. Immediately the wind batters me. My legs turn to jelly, and I don’t dare take in the view at first—not until, under Joe’s watchful eye, I securely attach myself to an anchor point on the platform. Only then do I raise my gaze.

My God. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s not like observing the urban sprawl from a high-rise, nor like admiring the scenery from the summit of a mountain. We’re atop a tower that juts straight into the air and offers a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the surrounding countryside—it’s surreal.

Rolling hills stretch for as far as the eye can see, a patchwork of green and purple from the heather, while lochs glisten like jewels in the sunlight, their surfaces rippling in the wind. It’s incredible.

Richard, who’s also now up on the platform, gently nudges my shoulder. “Worth the climb, right?”

I nod, unable to tear my eyes away from the stunning landscape. “Definitely. I’ve never seen the Highlands like this.”

Despite the height and being buffeted by strong winds, a strange sense of calm washes over me. My nerves recede and all that matters is soaking in every detail around me. My fear is replaced by amazement—and then by a sudden surge of excitement.

“Can I . . . scream?”

Richard chuckles. “Course you can. Let it all out.”

So I throw my arms back and yell into the wind, and it feels so good. Jack may have felt he was the king of the world on the Titanic, but he never experienced this.

As I let loose, something shifts inside me, and with a flash of clarity, I realise I need to be brave and do what’s right. Life is too short to do anything else—you never know what’s around the corner.

I make a silent decision then and there, but I keep it to myself until we’re back on solid ground. After collecting our harnesses and helmets, Joe drives off, leaving me and Richard to it.

“Well?” he says. “What did you think of my surprise?”