Fleur stands poised, eyes almost shut, dark hair, dark skin, in a white bikini. She raises her arms, thinking about her movements and the alignment of her body as only a dancer does. She pauses, the diving board rocks, and then in perfect slow motion her body bends, jumps and turns in a perfect arc as she dives, breaking the water with hardly a splash.

She isn’t aware of the watchers, of the men turning from the bar, of the women stopping for a moment, of the children, their mouths open in admiration. She is only aware of this small act of precision reminding her of what her body can do.

When she surfaces, the twins are swimming like small, fat beetles towards her, racing to see who can get to her first. She laughs and propels herself towards them and when her feet touch the bottom she holds her arms wide, turning her face upwards away from their splashes. They grab her arms.

‘I won!’

‘No, I won!’

‘You both won,’ she says, clasping them to her. ‘Now let’s go and get dry because Daddy will be here any moment.’

She plonks them on the side and they start to pull their armbands off. When she looks up David is standing in his uniform watching them, his eyes shielded by dark glasses. Her heart turns over as it always does when she sees him from a distance. She thinks, ‘Oh God, he’s mine.’

The twins haven’t seen him yet and Fleur knows why he hasn’t called out. He likes to watch them. He likes to watch them when they are unaware because he too cannot quite believe in this happiness.

She smiles and the twins turn to see who she is smiling at, then squeak and jump up and run across the grass to him. He scoops them up and walks towards Fleur, laughing.

‘Ugh! Horrid, beastly little wet rats.’

‘No, no! Peapods. We’re peapods.’

‘You jolly well are not! Peapods are nice and dry and green.’ He drops them beside their armbands, takes off his dark glasses and bends and puts out a hand to pull Fleur out of the water.

‘Hi, you.’ He kisses her nose, his eyes amused, and Fleur wants to wind her arms round him, press her body to him; the feeling is visceral and overpowering.

‘Are you going in?’

‘Yes, I’ll cool off for ten minutes while you get these rats dressed. Can you get me a beer, darling? I’m parched.’

He walks back with her across the grass where the shadows are lengthening and goes to change. Fleur dresses the twins and gets out their colouring books. She walks over to the outside bar to get them cold drinks and the twins turn and watch her.

She has wrapped a thin, filmy piece of material across her hips and people turn as she passes. The young Malay waiter who is clearing the tables hurries back to the bar so that he can serve her. He carries the tray all the way back across the grass for her and places it on the table beside the twins.