‘No, I’m fine. I don’t want to stop yet. I want to keep going. Let’s try again. I’ll keep my mouth closed this time,’ she said desperately, even though the fun had gone now. Earlier she had screamed and laughed as he had splashed her when she hadn’t wanted to get wet, she had helped scrub his hair with her fingertips to remove the oil. Everything had felt alive, like a new beginning – when really it was only the beginning of their ending.

He shook his head. ‘We can’t. Your temperature’s dropped. You’ll get sick.’

‘But . . .’

His eyes met hers. ‘Another time.’

It was like when they were on the ropes, when he had wanted to stay longer . . . only they both knew there wouldn’t be another time. Their elation of earlier – that surprise meeting in the dark, the capitulation to their first kiss, recognition that they both felt the same – was giving way to a more melancholic desperation. Time was slipping by, fast running out and this was all they had, and would ever have: hidden touch, furtive glances, private jokes, a few stolen kisses . . .

They stared at one another longingly but her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably, proving him right. It was adrenaline that had kept her in the water for so long, anything to have another few moments . . .

‘Come on. In.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Now,’ he said firmly, taking her by the arm and towing her out of the waves.

She staggered out of the water, surprised by how weak she felt. The dogs were lined up on the shore, barking as they waded through the shallows. She hadn’t really noticed them before now.

‘Why are they barking at us?’ Sholto asked as they walked past them, to where they’d left the towels.

‘It’s not us they’re barking at. There’s a boat coming,’ she said as he pulled a towel tightly around her.

Sholto looked back but there was only his yacht to see. He frowned as he pulled a towel around himself, seeing how she huddled under hers, shivering. They stood there together for a few moments, heads bent, bodies stiff.

‘. . . I don’t know how I can do it, Effie,’ he said in a low voice. She looked up to find him staring at her sorrowfully. ‘I don’t know how I can get on that boat tonight and leave you.’

‘So then don’t,’ she said urgently. ‘Stay. Be here with me.’

Despair flooded his eyes. ‘. . . I can’t.’ His body seemed to wilt with the word. ‘I have . . . responsibilities back home. Ties. It’s not as easy as just . . . doing what I want.’

‘Why isn’t it?’ Pain flecked her voice.

A sigh carried his. ‘You don’t understand.’