Neil went first. ‘Remember the pull at the bottom,’ he warned, as he picked his way across the slippery rock to the natural stone slide – now beneath the water – that delivered them into the calm pool downstream. He wobbled and laughed as he poised at the head of the slide, water gushing round his ankles. Then he sat down and was immediately engulfed, swept the length of the slide as he disappeared from view.

‘Oh my God, oh my God!’ he shouted, head popping up the other side of the rocks. ‘It’s bloody knackering.’

Connie shivered as she followed Neil’s path across the rocks and stood where he had. The morning breeze wafted cool over her skin, and she waited for a moment, savouring her nakedness. ‘Here I come.’ Tensing as the water seized her, she felt the smooth stone beneath her bottom, the fierce tug of the river. Then she let herself go, the cold making her gasp and shout until she was submerged, the rusty water closing over her head as she slid into the pool beyond.

They swam vigorously to and fro across the river, reeds tickling their bellies in the shallows near the bank. As their bodies adjusted to the temperature, they lay on their backs and looked up towards the trees and the sky, listening to the pounding of the water on the weir.

Later, damp and cold but exhilarated, they huddled in the car and drank the last of the coffee, gazing down at the river through the rain. A heron landed on the rocks where they’d just been standing, perching delicately on its spindly legs, its sharp yellow beak swishing slowly from side to side, as if it were surveying its kingdom. They watched in silence. This was what Connie loved about Neil. He knew how to just be.

Draining his mug and slotting it into the well between the seats, Neil turned to her. ‘OK … I’ve been pretty patient,’ he began, ‘but you’re hiding something, Constance McCabe, and I want to know what it is.’ He accompanied his words with a severe flick of his eyebrows. The swim had left his short blond hair sticking up at all angles and softened his handsome, angular face.

Connie, cuddled in a thick wool cardigan, warm and relaxed after the swim, which was like a meditation for her, did not really want to engage with his demand. But she owed him an explanation. ‘I’ve told Devan I’ll retire,’ she said.

Neil looked shocked. ‘Seriously? But you were so dead against it.’