‘No you don’t have anything to worry about,’ I said. Did I really want to do this? I cracked my knuckles and went for it. ‘Because most people’s viral loads are completely undetectable if they stick to their regimen. In fact, you’re probably safest . . .’

He was shaking his head and blinking.

‘Oh, Jesus,’ he said. ‘Oh no.’

I shrugged and sighed. ‘You have to chill,’ I said. It occurred to me, as I watched him have an honest-to-god freak-out, that crushing on an older guy was not without its problems, for with them came their attitudes, their daggier notions.

I looked out at the sea again. I felt grave and calm.

‘You have to tell me,’ he pleaded.

‘Forget you, man,’ I said.

‘Hey!’ I heard him yell.

But I was going, gone.

It was the new year, or close enough that I just let it upend me, the cold water, the gentle slope, then I floated out.

The bay was cold and peaceful. I floated for . . . who knows?

I was in a quiet place, buoyant, very comfortable. I was in a bed, and on my back, in outer space, and although all I heard was the lapping of the bay, I understood that he was out here with me.

Are you happy here? he asked me.

I didn’t answer. I smiled.

We both lay there together in a fantasy of night, safe from time, like brothers, but not even like boys.

We have to go back soon, he said. He added, not now.

And just when I was happiest, I realised where I was. I gulped for air. I kicked my feet. I could not touch the bottom; who knew what else was out here, in the deep and dark?

I panicked and I freestyled. My hand brushed something soft. I screamed and swallowed water. I kicked—

and touched down.

I struggled forward, endless, leaving reams of whiffy blood.

I was waist-deep. I was walking.

I was dripping.

I was home.

I crawled up the beach panting, with my underwear still on.

‘Vivian,’ I called out, once. But he’d already gone.

I looked out at the water, at the surface, finless, still. I wanted to cry or something. I could not believe my luck.

I collected Dan’s shoes. They were a real situation, their puffy surfaces tarnished with beachy grime and gunk.

I pissed quickly in the bushes and hopped dripping up the hill.

When I got back to the house I was both too buzzed and too tired to come to any decisions about exactly how bad the situation on the beach had been, but I knew it was a matter of pinpointing its specific badness – no argument for its goodness could be made from any angle.

It felt very late at night, but we’d really dropped quite early, and then, because we also hadn’t taken very much, the whole thing had finished before the clock struck midnight.