With both of his hands extended straight in front of him, he slammed into Roisin’s shoulder and into the handle of Ita’s stroller, too. Roisin was so startled that she didn’t cry out. Both she and the go-car were pitched sideways into the river and the next thing she knew she was gasping and floundering in freezing water and the go-car was sinking fast.

‘Oh God, help me!’ she screamed. ‘I can’t swim, somebody help me!’

She thrashed at the surface of the water, trying desperately to reach the go-car. She could see that Ita’s pink-and-blue blanket was quickly becoming sodden, so that it was not only dragging the go-car downwards but tilting the handles forwards, beyond her grasp. Ita must still be sleeping, because she made no sound at all.

‘Help me! Help me!’ screamed Roisin again. ‘My baby’s going to drown! Help me!’

She was kicking her legs and flailing her arms, but her coat was quickly becoming heavier and she kept swallowing mouthfuls of filthy cold water. She tried to scream again but all she could manage was a gargling splutter.

She went right under the water, and even though she kept her mouth tightly closed and tried to hold her breath, the shock of going under made her sniff, and she felt a nostrilful of water drop painfully into her lungs.

She kicked even more frantically, and surfaced, and when she lifted up her head and blinked the water out of her eyes, she saw to her horror that only one handle of Ita’s go-car was still visible. She tried to strike out towards it, but she had almost no strength left, and her coat was weighing her down.

It was then, though, that she heard a hoarse voice shout out, ‘Hold on, Roisin! Hold on, love! I’m coming for ye! Hold on!’

She turned her head and saw that Peadar was standing on the steps, and that he had stripped off his old brown raincoat and was tugging off his rushers.

‘Keep on paddling there, girl! Keep on paddling!’ he shouted. He balanced his way awkwardly down to the slippery bottom step with his arms held out wide. Then – after a moment’s hesitation – he flopped himself into the water, chest first. Póg immediately came running across the grass and jumped into the water after him.

‘Póg! Ye feckin’ eejit! Get back out!’ Peadar shouted at him. But Póg kept on bobbing up and down after him, and there was nothing Peadar could do. He came swimming towards Roisin, and even though he was old, and still wearing a thick cable-knit sweater, he swam with a strong, even breaststroke. He kept his head held high above the water, his white hair tangled and wet.

‘Ita!’ gasped Roisin. ‘You have to save Ita!’