It was heartbreaking. She missed her own mother every day. Moments came to her with searing agony, when she remembered a smell, or a song, or a birthday gift. Even after a year, it didn’t seem to be getting any easier.

‘God, I feel for those kids,’ she said.

She slid under the water again. It felt cathartic chatting to Johnny about her day. She discussed all her cases with him. She’d never done that with a boyfriend before, except for when she’d dated a colleague, and that was rare. But Johnny took an interest. He was also hugely capable and intelligent, so sometimes she put a quandary to him and let him mull it over as if he were part of her team. It helped. He often spotted something that brought new energy to a case. She guessed that technically she shouldn’t be discussing sensitive information with him, but it made her feel better and she knew he’d never tell a soul.

‘Oh, this is bliss,’ she said. ‘I’m absolutely knackered. I went soft in Florida. What about your day?’

‘It was pretty quiet, just one job on Haystacks.’

‘Haystacks?’ The peak wasn’t difficult, but it was rocky. It was Alfred Wainwright’s favourite and his ashes were scattered over Innominate Tarn at the top. It was about as peaceful a place as one got in the National Park. The view across to Pillar was jaw-dropping.

‘You know at the top, where the craggy rocks jut up and down?’

She nodded. The walk followed paths all the way to the top, where a short scramble could catch a walker out, no matter what your level of fitness. The grey rock was unforgiving until you were over the summit, where it grew boggy again.

‘A woman got her foot caught in a crack, and when she tried to step up, it twisted and she fell.’

‘Ouch.’

‘It was the nastiest break I’ve ever seen. She was in agony. The helicopter managed to get her from close to Innominate Tarn.’

Johnny had been with Cumbria Mountain Rescue for approaching eight years. He’d moved to the Lake District after a decorated career as an army officer. That was what had destroyed his marriage to Josie’s mum. He didn’t talk about it often, but he had told Kelly bits and pieces about tours in Iraq, Kosovo, Bosnia and Afghanistan. It was no surprise that he’d ended up somewhere quiet, isolated and beautiful. He looked like he’d always lived in the fells: rugged and strong.

‘Are you on call tomorrow?’

‘Yup. We both need an early night. I suppose you’ve got to keep your phone on?’ he asked.

‘Sorry. I’ll understand if you want to go back to yours.’

‘I’ll call Josie to see if she’s all right.’ He left the room.