‘D’you think so? My father didn’t think much of it. But maybe that’s because he was named after Mum’s family.’

‘Do you have a photo?’

‘I’ll show you sometime. If you’d like.’

‘I’d be most honoured,’ he replied formally.

‘Honoured?’

‘Honoured,’ he repeated gravely, ridiculously, dripping in front of her like some mad medieval knight.

She took his sodden head between her hands again and kissed him. Reeling back the years. Far from anywhere, empty of anger, empty of fear. Blithe at last. What a journey this had been, after all.

Behind them were trees, a darker darkness, where they could breathe in the sharp scent of resin and dry compacted earth. They could lie on the hard ground, her skin pricked by needles, her tangled lake-hair full of dirt and insects, her damp skin soaking up the powdery skim of top soil.

She lifted his hand and laid it across her breast.

‘Oi!’ they heard. ‘You two!’

Mickey was standing on the deck of the boat, flickering a torch in their direction. They stared at him, then at each other.

‘Oi!’ he called again. ‘What are you doing there?’

‘Tomorrow,’ said Luke.

Thirty

The boat’s engine woke her and she lay looking through the clear strip of glass at the clouds and sky passing overhead. Soon she heard Katherine singing a snatch of song over and over again: ‘We’re off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz …’ And then Mickey, joining in heartily, rolling out a parody baritone. She smiled and stretched. Lorrie’s voice drifted past, saying something to Neil. Someone laughing. Plates chinking. The sound of a kettle whistling on the gas stove. She pulled the sheet over her head, trapping herself in a cave of grainy white light, and stretched out her tired limbs. This was her last day; tomorrow she would be gone.

There was a knock at her door and Lorrie came in with a mug of tea.

‘Morning.’

‘Hi. We’re on our way then.’

‘We thought you’d like a lie-in. We’re motoring right down to the other end of the lake and Luke says we should get to the start of the Canal du Midi before midday.’

‘I’ll get up in a minute.’

‘No hurry. There’s breakfast up on deck. It’s a perfect day, very warm but breezy.’

‘Katherine sounds all right.’

‘She’s completely all right – she keeps telling everyone rather proudly that she dived into the lake. And Mickey says he’s starving.’

‘Yeah – I saw him last night and he seemed fully recovered then. Not to say hyper. He kept us up till all hours.’

There was a slight pause. Lorrie looked at the knot of wet clothes in the corner. ‘Good evening?’

‘Fine, thanks.’

‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

‘I think you were asleep.’

‘Yes. OK then.’