There were only two places in the village to buy alcohol: the tabac, and the Proxi – a small supermarket situated up a side street behind the boulangerie. Beth and Corinne waited outside by the shelter where discarded cartons and crates were stored, while Eva went into the Proxi with the money. Wasps buzzed around them, attracted by fruit rotting in the bottom of a crate. Beth swatted them away, then kicked at a stone on the pavement.

‘What’s wrong?’ Corinne asked. She had her eyes closed, her head leaning back against the shop window.

‘Nothing.’

Corinne smiled lazily, then opened her eyes. ‘Tell me.’

‘Why’d you have to ask her along?’ Beth grumbled.

‘I already told you. We need her to buy the alcohol.’

‘I know, but—’

‘What?’

The truth was Beth didn’t much want the booze. She’d have been as happy just smoking a few cigarettes between the two of them, maybe taking a couple of bottles of her dad’s beer. She resented Eva’s part in all this – had been surprised, in fact, when her older sister had agreed to the plan considering how her response to anything from Beth or Corinne was usually one of disdain.

‘You’re nervous?’ Corinne asked.

Beth shrugged. ‘A little, I guess.’

‘Don’t be.’ Her smile broadened and she pushed herself away from the wall, her right hand reaching out to touch Beth’s shoulder, fingertips brushing against the skin of her neck. ‘It will hurt a little, but it will be beautiful – I promise.’

Hope kindled in Beth’s heart. Then Eva emerged into the evening sunlight, a paper bag holding her purchase, saying:

‘So. Where to now?’

It was too far to walk, but Corinne seemed confident of a lift. They trudged along the side of the road with their hands out and soon enough a van pulled over and the three of them piled in, Beth squeezed against the window feeling the heat from Eva’s thigh alongside her own. Corinne rattled away in rapid French to the driver, a middle-aged man in overalls, oil stains covering his hands and forearms. The van reeked of cigarettes and sweat.

‘How’re we going to get back?’ Eva murmured as the van picked up speed, but Beth ignored her and stared outside.

The countryside was a blur, her mind’s eye turned instead on that moment earlier in the day when they’d gone down into the water together.

‘Why do you wear this?’ Corinne had asked, tugging at the wet cotton of Beth’s T-shirt clinging in folds against her skin.

‘So my shoulders don’t get sunburnt,’ she’d answered, but Corinne had known it was because of the scar.