We strolled barefoot across the beach, not getting too close to the rolling waves that frothed into foam. Jet skis zoomed towards the shore and shot out to sea again as though they were attached to elastic. I felt the prickling heat of sunburn on the back of my neck, but I also felt something else. Comfortable. Something I’d never truly felt with Roxanne, with her constant obsession with her appearance. With my appearance. Making me change before a night out if what I was wearing didn’t complement her outfit.

‘Shall we head up there?’ I pointed to a slope that led off the beach.

In unison, we turned. Our bodies were close as we strolled, arms almost brushing. I could have stretched out my fingers and taken her hand, but I didn’t.

We paused when we reached the path. Brushing the sand from our feet before slipping our flip-flops on. Hers were silver and sparkly. Mine were from Primark, white and plastic. Roxanne would have been horrified.

A row of kiosks selling postcards and buckets and spades provided a strip of shade and we stepped into it thankfully, welcoming the kiss of warmth rather than the beating heat.

A man approached us and thrust a clipboard under Anna’s nose. Pushed a pen into her hand. He tapped twice on the sentence at the top of the form written in broken English. Some sort of petition to keep open a school for deaf children. Anna glanced at the man, confused. He placed his hands over his ears.

‘You’re deaf,’ Anna said.

He nodded. Moved a hand to cover his mouth.

‘You can’t talk?’

He shook his head.

Anna’s expression was one of sadness. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She spoke slowly. Clearly, exaggerating each word with the movement of her lips. ‘What do you need?’

He twisted his fingers, signing things we didn’t understand.

‘I can’t… I don’t know sign language,’ Anna said.

The man tapped twice on the sentence again, this time with force. The clipboard bowing in Anna’s hands. He slid his finger down to a blank space before pointing at Anna.

‘You want me to sign my name?’

He nodded. His hands making circles as though there was more.

‘My address?’

He nodded again. Tapped the paper too hard. He was getting my back up now. He might be deaf but that was no excuse to be rude and intimidating.

‘You don’t have to—’ I began but Anna had begun scrawling out her details.

Anna Adlington.

‘Good luck.’ She handed the clipboard back to him with a smile. She began to walk on but he put a hand against her shoulder, stopping her. He rubbed his fingers together, the universal sign for cold hard cash.

‘Oh, you want money!’ Anna’s cheeks spotted pink. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t have my bag. Adam… do you…’