The poolside, with its shield of poplars, was cast in evening shade. Behind it, the setting sun fired the sky with streaks of crimson and orange. Up on the terrace, Finn and Amber, tasked with the evening barbecue, were already running very late. Brian, spruce in light-brown chinos and a white shirt after his evening shower, was adopting a supervisory role from his sun lounger, working his way through a book of crosswords between refreshing Esther’s and Viv’s wine glasses and his own tumbler of gin and tonic. Arty and Bess, after groans about their rumbling stomachs, were playing ping-pong in the barn, from where howls of victory and frustration punctured the faint tap-tapping of the ball.

Esther lazily peered round her Kindle. Viv was a couple of feet away, curled into a wicker chair on the terrace, reading a novel in her fervent way, eyes wide, turning the pages as if her life depended on it. Esther’s own book was proving less adept at holding her attention. She set it aside and watched a beam of the fading sunlight fall across the white, cotton dress she was wearing instead. Her skin was starting to glow. She always tanned well, like Dylan. Lily was the paler one, taking after Lucas. Three days in and three still to go. Three precious days. Her phone had been silent since Sue’s update, and that felt good too. As if she really was off the hook for a while.

Her mind drifted to earlier that afternoon, when the kayaking party had failed to appear at the agreed time. Phone messages had been left, until Viv had insisted that lunch should be embarked on by the four of them anyway, since the contents of the pan could easily be reheated for a second sitting when required. Clearing up afterwards, Esther had been aware of Viv humming under her breath as she moved around the kitchen, wrapping up the sourdough, parking the lid back on the saucepan of mussels.

‘How worried are you really, Viv?’ Esther had found herself exclaiming. ‘I mean, is there a riverboat patrol service or something you can call?’