‘What the fuck happened to the music?’ he bellowed.

‘Tanya switched it off,’ Joe said dryly. ‘I did tell you that guitarists are her thing. Listen!’ He held up his index finger. Alex could hear Simon and Tanya’s voices coming from the campsite – the same song as before.

‘I’ll see you by the waters. The dark and lonely waters.’

He swore quietly to himself, then swam quickly to the side and heaved himself out of the pool. Carina threw him his towel without meeting his gaze. Marie was shivering, trying to wrap herself in her top. ‘It’s too cold,’ she whimpered. ‘Can’t we go back to the fire?’

‘Come on,’ Joe said, sweeping the beam of his torch slowly over Carina for at least the third time. ‘One more dip. I haven’t been in yet, and nor have those two up there.’

Alex slung his towel over his shoulders. His legs were trembling, and not only because of the chill. ‘He’s right, this is the last swim of the summer,’ he said. ‘Everyone has to go in.’ He took a few steps towards the camp site. ‘Simon! Simon!’

The guitar fell silent and Simon peered over the edge. ‘What?’

‘Time for a swim.’

Simon pulled a face. ‘No thanks.’ Tanya appeared beside him, holding a lit joint.

‘Come on!’ Alex insisted angrily. ‘You didn’t go in earlier on. The last swim of the summer, OK?’

He turned to the others for support. ‘Come on, Simon!’ Bruno echoed Alex’s words, then Marie joined in too. ‘It’s a tradition, Simon – you can’t let us down!’

Joe pointed the torch at Simon, started a chant.

‘Simon, Simon, Simon . . .’

Simon still looked reluctant. Tanya whispered something in his ear, stuck the joint in his mouth. He took a deep drag and they both gazed at each other in a way Alex didn’t like at all.

Then Simon’s lips curved in a mysterious smile and he set off down the track. He pulled off his top but kept his jeans on. Joe kept the beam of the torch on him, as if he were a rock star heading for the stage. The chant grew louder: ‘Simon, Simon, Simon . . .’

Much to Alex’s surprise, instead of joining them on the bathing stone, Simon began to climb the rock face. The chant continued, but Alex dropped out when Simon passed the place from which he’d just jumped, and kept going. There was anxiety in their voices now, until Tanya joined in, giving them fresh energy.

‘Simon, Simon, Simon . . .’

Simon was still climbing, the beam of the torch tracking him like a spotlight. Foot after foot, until he reached the highest outcrop. Alex suddenly felt sick. The chant bounced off the walls of the quarry, over and over again, until the place was filled with noise.

‘Simon, Simon . . .’