Roy scrambled to lower the sail but the boat was now caught in a strong current and they were borne at what seemed like a terrifying rate. Just when they both feared they would be taken right down the river and out to sea, the current drove the dinghy straight into a group of willows on a headland just after the Brosses’ property. They seized the branches and held on.

Roy swung on to the shore by the branches and grabbed the dinghy’s tender and made the boat fast. He helped a shaken Agatha ashore. They both sat down on the muddy, grassy bank. Agatha’s face was white. ‘You silly chump,’ she said. ‘You told me you knew how to handle the thing.’

Roy shivered. ‘You know, that Judson must have known it was dangerous. He must know all about that current. I’ll pull the dinghy up on the bank and he can collect it. If those willow branches hadn’t been blown down so near the water, we’d have had it. Let’s get back to the pub. I’m freezing.’

Agatha was recovering. She took out her mobile phone and asked directory inquiries for Judson’s number and then called him. She blasted him for having risked their lives. He shouted back that they were incompetent until Agatha threatened to go to the police. He said he would come down the river, collect the dinghy and take them back. Roy, with a sinking heart, heard Agatha say, ‘We’ll find our own way back.’

‘Why?’ asked Roy miserably.

‘Because, as we scooted past, I saw the Bross house through the trees. If we walk back along the riverbank, we’ll be able to get to Bross’s boat. Bert might be there. If he’s not, we’ll find a way round the property to the village and phone for a taxi.’

They squelched their way along under a now lowering sky. They rounded a bend and came to the stretch of river in front of the house but there was no boat at anchor. ‘Snakes and bastards!’ complained Agatha. There was a short wooden jetty. She walked to the edge and stared up and down the river.

‘Oh, come on. Let’s get out of here,’ pleaded Roy.

Agatha was about to turn away when the movement of something in the water below the jetty caught her eye. She stared down. Under the restless motion of the river a white shape could be seen.

‘Roy,’ said Agatha in a shaky voice. ‘I think there’s something down there.’

Roy trotted up and knelt down on the jetty. The water swirled and eddied and then amongst the swirls there was a sudden calm. ‘It’s a face,’ he said. ‘Aggie, there’s a body down there.’

Agatha took out her phone and called the police.