‘Once upon a time, there were three little pigs,’ she began. Katherine squirmed happily and drops of red flew over Irene’s legs and bare feet. She read the book once, then again, making the huffing and puffing more dramatic; Luke steered nearer to the canal’s opening. Katherine put a sticky hand on each of their thighs.

‘If I’d seen a picture of this, a year ago,’ said Irene, ‘I would have thought I’d gone completely bonkers.’

He just smiled and pushed his foot against hers.

‘Again!’ said Katherine. ‘Again again again!’

‘Once upon a time …’

She lay on the deck and Lorrie rubbed cream into her back. She could feel his eyes on her. She read Great Expectations. She was near the end now, and would never read or think of it again without associating it with these two weeks. There were smudges of oil on its thin, densely printed pages, making them translucent, and its spine was cracked. She’d pressed a small scarlet flower on its inside cover.

She biked along the towpath with Neil, Katherine and Mickey. Wind in her hair and on either side of the civilized water lay smooth hills, golden vineyards, far-off chateaux. The boat lay far behind them, a white shape reflected in the still water. Remember this, she thought to herself: remember.

They reached a small town, moored up beside all the other boats, had lunch in a café that sold slices of pizza and salads. Irene slid off her sandals and laid her dusty soles on Luke’s calf. He looked at her; gave her a funny half-smile that turned her stomach liquid. She prodded at her Mediterranean salad, drank two tumblers of water.

‘It’s Irene’s last night,’ said Lorrie. ‘It’s gone too quickly.’

‘What time do you have to leave?’ Luke asked neutrally.

‘I haven’t really decided,’ said Irene. ‘I want to feel on holiday till the very last minute. But not too late. I think it’s easiest to get a taxi from Béziers to take me to my car. It’ll only take a couple of hours or so for me to get back to the place we set off from three days ago.’

‘And then, straight back?’

‘I’ll have to stay somewhere tomorrow night. But with luck, I’ll be sleeping in my own bed the night after tomorrow.’

‘Let’s take her out for a slap-up meal,’ said Mickey, draining his beer mug and reaching over to take some of Lorrie’s.

‘Don’t be daft. You’ve been incredibly generous to me already, letting me join your holiday like this. I haven’t paid my share of the boat yet.’

‘It was just a place that would have gone empty anyway.’

‘I’m paying my way.’ She pushed aside thoughts of debts, overdrafts, the leaking roof, school shoes for the new academic year …