The gravel was sharp on the soft soles of my feet, but the chilly water around my ankles felt delicious. We must have crushed a minty-type of plant as we waded in, because the smell reminded me of peppermint humbugs. The lake was so clear that we could see our toes, and tiny long-legged insects darted around on the surface of the water.

Rob was striding ahead now.

‘Come on, Molly. It’s perfectly safe.’

I waded cautiously towards him, he took my hand and we stood in silence, watching the circles of ripples spreading away from our legs across the surface of the lake, creating ever-changing patterns from the distorted reflections of the sky and the trees. For a few moments I felt flooded with peace. But it wasn’t to last.

From the woods behind came a volley of shouts and wolf-whistles. Rob dropped my hand suddenly, as though I’d burned him.

‘Oh, hell. It’s the others.’

‘The others?’ Kit, perhaps?

‘The lads. Remember? From the fete?’

I remembered all right. The three boys who’d stared at Jimmy when he’d thrown down the beer bottle. The ones who’d smirked when George Diamond had offered Jimmy a go at ‘Catch the Rat’, and who had been silenced by his success.

Rob was already wading back to the beach, abandoning me with my skirt tucked into my knickers and muddy water up to my knees. I followed him, scowling with resentment.

Ashley, Brian and Peter. Strange the things you remember after all these years, when I can’t even recall the name of someone I met yesterday. Ashley was tall and fair, like Rob. Brian was short, spotty and ginger-haired. Peter was dark, thickset and serious-looking. They acknowledged me with shy smiles.

‘What’ve you done with that funny little brother of yours today?’ That was Brian. The chippy one, I remembered now. And rude.

‘His name’s Jimmy,’ I retorted. ‘He’s at home with my dad.’

In the company of his friends, Rob appeared younger and sillier. We sat in the sun and Peter produced a bottle of lemonade, which he passed round.

‘Bloody hell, it’s hot,’ Brian said suddenly. ‘Anyone for a swim?’

It felt like a dare. The other boys hesitated, checking his expression. Was he teasing? It didn’t seem so. He swiftly shed his shoes and socks; now he hauled off his T-shirt to reveal an acre of pale skin dotted with acne scars.

‘Steady on,’ Rob said. ‘Spare Molly’s blushes, won’t you?’

But Brian was not to be deflected. He was in his shorts now, his skinny chest bared defiantly.

‘We can cool off paddling, can’t we?’ Ashley said.

‘Don’t be a wimp,’ Brian said. ‘C’mon. Last one in’s a sissy.’

Masculine pride was at stake, and there was no holding them back now.

‘Are you coming?’ Rob asked me, as he stripped to his shorts.

‘No, thanks.’