The feeling crept over her that she’d started something she shouldn’t have, something illicit. Ross was a married man. There were rules about that kind of thing. But Eva was tired of being good and responsible. She was done with childish things. Drifting past the exhibits, she smiled to herself, a kind of recklessness taking hold of her. In the quiet of the museum, she thrilled to the danger.

17

Four of them went down to the river.

Val had promised that it was not far to the bathing spot, but with the heat and Valentina’s leisurely pace, by the time they saw the break in the trees and the flash of sunlight on the green waters that flowed slowly beneath, the sweat had broken through the cotton of Abi’s sundress, drenching her back and sticking to her underarms. The car park was jammed and as they approached, she could hear the screams and splashes of kids playing in the water, hip-hop music filtered through speakers high up in the trees. A crescent-shaped beach was carved into a bend in the river; the sand was littered with towels upon which teenagers sprawled listening to music, mothers flipping through magazines or paperbacks. When Valentina had suggested coming here, Abi had pictured somewhere peaceful and pastoral, a glade where they could cool down and relax, so she was relieved when Valentina picked her way past these bathers and led them up into the grass. She walked with purpose, until they reached a spot beneath the trees a hundred metres or so beyond the beach. The music and the screaming were still audible, but there was more privacy here.

‘The water level is higher at this part of the river,’ Valentina explained. ‘So the girls can swim. And maybe us too?’

‘Yes, I’d like that.’

The women put down their things, Valentina spread the rug over the grass near the bank and then pushed off her sandals and sat down, unpacking their picnic of bread and cheese and fruit. Closer to the water’s edge, the girls were stepping out of their shorts.

Beth’s swimming suit was cerise pink and she wore a loose white T-shirt over it. Abi’s eyes automatically went to the scar at the base of Beth’s neck. It curved like a sickle blade over her spine. Even now, two years after the operation, it still sent a mild shudder through her whenever she caught sight of it.

‘Quit staring at me, Mum,’ Beth said quietly, her tone terse, and Abi found herself embarrassed to be caught in that way.

‘Why don’t you take your T-shirt off?’ she suggested. ‘Let the sun get at your skin.’

‘I’m fine,’ Beth snapped and then seated herself on the bank, dipping her feet into the water.

‘You’re not going to wear that T-shirt while you’re swimming, surely?’

‘So?’

‘For goodness’ sake, love!’ she laughed, slightly exasperated. ‘That’s just silly.’