Thankfully the waves looked gentle, rippling with that sort of soporific swell that promised calm. While she hadn’t done any sea kayaking, she was reassured that she’d been through a few gentle rapids and could cope with today’s small waves. If the wind had picked up at all she probably would have chickened out.

With helmet and paddles in hand, having changed into wetsuits, they left Danny’s basic office and went down to the small, shingled beach area where two red fibreglass kayaks were waiting for them. Hannah wriggled her way into the waterproof spray deck and the neoprene shoes that they’d hired and waded into the shallow water, wincing as the cold water lapped around her ankles.

‘All set?’ asked Conor, fiddling with the chin strap of his helmet.

‘Yup,’ said Hannah shortly, trying to hide the tiny sense of apprehension. She was always like this on a new stretch of river or canal at home, but at least here they were in a bay and not the open sea.

As soon as she dipped her paddle in the water, her muscles working in her back and shoulders, the tension eased and she looked up, squinting against the bright rays of the sun that bathed her face in warmth. High, bright clouds raced across the sky, wispy edges changing shape as they sailed above. The gentle breeze brought with it the taste of salt on her lips and the smell of briny freshness from the sea. She followed Conor, watching his quick, even strokes as they paddled away from the nearby quayside and all the little fishing boats bobbing at their moorings. The air was filled with the ringing and clinking of the metal halyards against the masts teased by the wind like it was conducting some invisible orchestra. Overhead, two irate seagulls bickered, squawking at each with loud indignation, their W-shaped wings flapping as they wheeled and dived at each other.

Once they left the shelter of the little beach, it took more effort to propel the little kayaks forward against the current which was pushing back towards the shore, but despite this it was good to feel familiar muscles contracting and stretching.

Conor slowed and waited for her to come alongside. ‘We’ll head over that way.’ He pointed towards the far side of the bay, marked by an archway of stone just clinging to the supporting rock. It had clearly been worn away over the years, and there didn’t look to be many more left from the appearance of the weathered pillar of darkened stones.