Thomas Becker — крутилось 0 дн, охват 3

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My name is Thomas Becker. I’m 39 years old. I live near Southampton and I’ve been working on merchant ships for more than twelve years. My life has always been split into two parts: a few months at sea, then a few weeks at home with my family, and then another voyage. A typical contract lasts around five months. The work is tough: 10–12 hour shifts, the constant noise of machinery, salty air, and practically every day spent away from my family. But I’m used to it. I always knew why I was going away to sea. My wife and our two children were waiting for me at home. I’d spent almost all the money from my previous voyage. I hadn’t been going out or buying myself anything expensive. It was just that so many things had built up during the five months I was away. We had to pay for our eldest child’s education, buy our youngest a new laptop for school and replace the washing machine when it broke down. Then my wife’s mum became ill, so we had to help with medical appointments and medication. The car also suddenly needed repairs. I kept telling myself: “It’s fine. Tomorrow I’ll go back to sea for another five months and earn it all back.” My next voyage was supposed to start on Wednesday morning. By Tuesday, I’d already packed my bag. Work clothes, documents, a few photos of the kids, chargers. Everything as usual. But that morning I woke up with a fever and felt extremely weak. At first I thought I’d just caught a cold. My wife insisted that I take a test. COVID. Positive. I actually laughed from nerves. You’d think the pandemic had been over for ages. But the rules on board were stricter. The company’s medical team told me that nobody would allow me onto the ship with a positive test and that I had to spend a week at home isolating until I was cleared to return to work. I told them: “But the ship leaves tomorrow. In a week it won’t even be here.” The answer was simple: “We understand. But you can’t join this voyage.” At that moment, it felt as though everyth