The terrace was veiled with dusk, caught in that moment of soft grey light before darkness fully sets in. Eleanor stood. Her chair fell backwards and she took two staggered steps. As she stumbled the bottle slipped from her hand and smashed on the paving stones. She took another step. Her knees buckled, but like a battle-weary soldier she drew herself up again and walked closer to the pool. She knelt, her hands gripping the edge of the paving stones. She leant over the water and looked into it as if she were searching for something beneath the surface. Then she lifted her head. The wind took her hair. I could see her in profile. Her face was wracked with pain. As I watched her mouth moved. No sound. Not from where I was. Then her mouth moved again. I closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to turn down the volume of the sea and wind. And then I heard it. A faint shout.

‘Max!’

I scanned the house for movement. But there was nothing.

She dragged herself upwards. One foot. Then the other. Unsteady like a newborn foal. Once on her feet she took a step towards the house.

But then she missed her footing. Misjudged the paving stone, her foot catching only half of it. I watched as she stumbled and grabbed at nothing in an attempt to regain her balance. Her arms windmilled and for a moment she seemed to hang in the air, time stilled, then she hit the water.

I dropped the binoculars and moved over the tufted grasses to rejoin the footpath. When I reached the gate I paused to catch my breath, hesitating as my hand rested on the cold iron.

Are we allowed?

My father nodded and smiled.

The gate creaked open as I went through it. The lawn was soft beneath my feet. I didn’t run. I walked. Enjoying the sensation of the grass underfoot once again. When I reached the terrace I glanced up at the house to check Max’s study door was still closed. It was, so I walked to the edge of the pool and looked down.

She floated just below the surface of the water. Her hand reached upwards, fingers outstretched. Her eyes were open and unblinking, a sparse trail of bubbles escaping from her mouth and nose. As I stared down at her, her empty gaze seemed to focus for a moment. Her mouth stretched fractionally wider as if trying to talk to me. Her hand twitched and clawed the water.

Was she still alive?

Then something whispered in the wind. A gentle calling. I looked away from her, raised my head, stared up at the house. Warmth radiated through me. There was no place else I felt this safe and happy. This was where I wanted to be. Nowhere else. Just here.