It’s the fifth time Kate has been white-water rafting, and her third time on this particular stretch of river, but the adrenaline rush she feels each time the dinghy speeds towards the rapids hasn’t lessened. It’s the sheer power of the water she finds so intoxicating, the way it rises up around the boat and hurls its passengers out. Then it’s just her and the river, locked together as she flails and thrashes, struggling to survive. The elation she feels, the triumph, when her head breaks the surface and she fills her lungs with cold, damp air is like nothing she’s ever known. It’s better than food, than wine, than sex. It feels like a victory, every time, to have come so close to death and twisted out of its grasp.

Now, she grips hold of the side of the dinghy and drags herself up and over the side, into its belly. A slow smile spreads over her face as she lies on her back, panting, gazing up into the cold, grey February sky. She did it again. And if she can do that, she can do anything.

The sound of laboured breathing forces her up and onto her knees. Damian, cheeks pink with cold above the dark line of his beard, has thrown his arms over the side of the dinghy. She reaches out a hand to help him but he shakes his head sharply and nods towards Phoenix and Renata who have just resurfaced and are also hanging onto the sides. Kate scoots towards Renata first. She grabs the back of her life jacket and pulls. Renata slips into the boat like an eel and lies on the bottom, gasping and shivering. Shortly afterwards Damian hauls himself back on board.

Kate and Damian have to work together to pull Phoenix up and over the side. As they haul him in his trousers slip down over his hips, revealing his red AussieBum underpants. He snatches at his trousers with one hand, grabbing them before they disappear below his knees and then drops into the boat. Kate doesn’t pause to check on him. Instead, she scans the water, looking for any sign of Geraldine or Joy. Her eyes meet Tom’s as his dinghy skims over the water a few feet away. There’s six in his boat, including his instructor. They’ve all made it out of the river unscathed.

Kate holds out a hand, palm upwards, and with the other hand shows Tom two fingers. She shakes her head. Two of her crew are missing.

‘There!’ As Tom’s shout rings out she spots a yellow helmet breaking the surface of the water, several metres in the other direction. Geraldine’s pale face follows, lips parted, sucking in air. Each time she inhales a terrible barking sound fills the air.

‘An oar!’ Kate shouts, reaching a hand behind her. ‘Give me an oar.’

Someone presses a pole into her palm.