‘Second place is better than anyone expects of me,’ he said. ‘And I’d like to see the look on those Moncrieffe faces when you win the whole freaking Games.’ He dropped his voice. ‘It’s not all selfless though. If your theory is wrong and there’s nothing under the ice, you’ll get a freezing cold dunk while I stay toasty and warm.’

I smiled. ‘I’m not wrong.’

He gestured at the ice with mock gallantry. ‘Go on, then.’

I tied the rope securely round my waist ‒ I really did not want to find myself trapped beneath the surface ‒ then took a deep breath and edged out. The ice groaned and it felt very flimsy under my feet. Although I needed it to break so I could fall into the water below, a part of me still hoped that wouldn’t happen. I took another step and another. The ice complained more loudly.

I’d gone about ten feet when something caught my eye beneath the frozen surface. The water was dark but I was sure I’d seen a flag. I squeezed my eyes shut, jumped and landed back on the ice. There was a loud cracking sound and tiny fissures appeared. They weren’t enough; I needed more if I was going to manage my swim. I leapt again, this time smashing down as hard as I could. A few seconds after I landed, the ice cracked loudly. I barely had time to hold my breath before I fell in.

The shock of the water was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I had scant seconds to do what was necessary before I’d have to pull myself out. While the loch might not have the dank, viscous oiliness of the Lowlands Clyde, I knew that the water here was far more dangerous. I dived under the surface but I couldn’t see a thing. Great. The Carnegies had lit fires to illuminate the fake flags but not used lights to help locate the real ones.

I fumbled for my pocket, my fingers already seizing up with cold, and managed to pull out Bob’s letter opener and rub it against my sleeve. As per usual, he appeared in a brilliant flash of light. It was a risky move – it would have been visible to almost everyone on the shore – but I didn’t have much choice.

Unfortunately, the flash provided by Bob’s appearance was too brief and too bright to help me see. He floated in front of my face in an old-fashioned Victorian one-piece bathing suit with maroon stripes covering him from his neck to his knees. He waved.

My lungs were starting to hurt. I tried to move my hands to indicate that I needed light but he just waved back. Gritting my teeth, I lunged to shake some sense into him. He pulled away at the last minute, his swimming costume transforming into a mermaid’s tail to help him move.

My head hurt and I knew I didn’t have long. There was a tug on the rope; Angus was getting worried. Screw Bob, I could do this without him. I began to kick, reckoning that my flag would probably be in the most inaccessible spot. Estimating that I’d already been underwater for at least thirty seconds, I moved as fast as I could.