She bent her head and took a long drink, wondering how long she’d have to sit there before it would be polite to leave.

“Ex-girlfriend,” Derek repeated. “Thank goodness. She’s high maintenance. Very insecure. I couldn’t handle it.”

“Of course not,” she said quietly.

He jerked his head up. “What do you mean?”

“I was just agreeing with you.”

“Do you want to meet her? You should meet her. Then you’ll know what I mean.”

“Why would I want to meet your ex-girlfriend? This is a very strange conversation. I’m not sure—”

It was as if Derek had got the exact response he wanted. He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. He was smiling.

“It’s okay. There’s nothing to be insecure about. I’m over her. You’ll see.”

By the time Faye said goodbye to him that evening, she had decided not to see him again. Two days later, she arrived home from lectures to find Derek drinking tea with Veronica, a large bunch of red roses on the coffee table between them.

“No sign of the rangers, I guess?” asked Clare as they shuffled towards the forest, their heads close together with the rain dripping off their hoods and onto the path ahead.

“No. I walked down the road for a bit to where I could see the bridge; it was completely submerged. The river was still raging. There’s no way they would have been able to get to us today and now, with this . . .”

“I’m sorry.” Clare’s voice was quiet.

“Don’t apologise. It was an accident. Sure, it would be more comfortable to wait out the weather in the hut, but we’ll make a plan.”

“And head back in the morning. When it’s light and hopefully dry. Right?”

Faye lifted her free hand and gave a thumbs up. She didn’t say what she was thinking: that she’d rather Clare waited until a medic had checked her before she undertook the rocky descent to Heuningbos.

The light was fading when they reached the forest. A few metres in, the shower stilled and was replaced by sporadic spatterings of water, which fell onto the forest floor, gathering in pools between the leaves. Faye recognised the fallen tree she’d leaned against to drink when the pigs had appeared and helped Clare to where it was low enough to sit.

“Thank you,” said the girl, her face softening with relief as she eased herself onto the soggy log.

Faye took her water bottle and some tissues from her bag, and wiped the blood and dirt from Clare’s wounds.

“Let’s take your jacket off and check your arms too,” she said.

“They’re just grazes from the fall and from dragging myself up the ravine.”

“I know, but I want to make sure before it gets dark.”

Clare nodded.