Steam rose from the cooling towers into the sky. People often think there are burners or something sinister inside them. When the power station was first built, Mum thought the village would be choked by smoke. ‘My washing will be black,’ she said. But I explained to her that each tower is actually a hollow concrete shell. They’re just for cooling the water from the power station. It’s not smoke coming from the towers; it’s condensation.

‘I swam here once.’ Kathryn had made her way through the trees and was standing at the edge of the first pool, grasping the elderflower bushes on either side of her, peering into the water.

‘Be careful,’ I said, following her. ‘There’s a sign here somewhere. Deep water leading to possible entrapment.’ I tried to make my voice light.

She leaned over a bit further, making the branches sway. ‘It was so cold. Even though it was the hottest day I can remember.’

I undid the camera case. ‘Look at me,’ I said. She looked back and I pushed the button. Click.

She blinked. ‘I wasn’t ready.’

I snapped the camera case shut. ‘When was that?’

‘What?’

‘When you swam.’ I worked my way to the edge of the bank where she stood.

‘A long time ago.’

I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed, and was surprised by the hardness of the bone there. ‘We could swim here, if you like.’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever do that again, Howard.’ She circled the tip of her shoe in the mud.

After a minute, I asked, ‘Can I take another picture?’

As I positioned myself a few feet from the bank and tried to get Kathryn in focus, she glanced up at the cooling towers behind me.

‘I hate those towers.’

I turned the dial until her edges became crisp.

‘The way you can’t escape them.’

‘Smile.’

‘They’re so… overwhelming.’

I clicked. ‘You didn’t smile. I’ll have to take more if you don’t smile.’

She continued to gaze over my head at the cooling towers.

‘They’re my work, Kathryn.’ I closed the camera case.

‘I know. It must be worse for you.’ She walked back up the bank towards me, her feet slipping slightly in the soft earth.

‘Not really. I like seeing them again. If I’ve been away.’

She stumbled a little then and caught hold of my arm to steady herself. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. Six towers. Six towers means I’m home.’

The sun was getting lower in the sky and the afternoon light was softening around us. Kathryn put her hand up to my cheek and ran her finger along the length of my nose. ‘Six towers,’ she said. ‘Funny. I’ve never counted them.’

I smiled at her. ‘But I know everything about them, you see.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘Yes. I know what they’re for. Why they’re important, necessary. And you don’t. Which is why you don’t like them.’

She laughed. ‘Is that right?’

‘Each one of those towers cools the water from the power station condensers, using the natural updraught of air. And that’s necessary every time you switch a light on. Those towers are a miracle, Kathryn. They help keep Calcot illuminated. They keep the whole county illuminated. And warm. They keep everything running.’