She pulled it away from him and quickly wrapped it around herself. Quinn looked around and then picked up another blue towel from the bank a few yards away.

‘Not this one?’ he offered.

Minnie looked at the towel. It did look pretty similar to the one she’d just seized. Now she came to think about it, this one was a little fluffier than she remembered hers being.

‘Oh,’ she said with a frown. ‘Here you go,’ she tried to swap back.

Quinn laughed. ‘Um, you made mine all wet now. I’ll use your dry one, thanks.’

They looked at each other, amused smiles on both their faces. It was strange running into Quinn again now. Though they’d only met a handful of times, something in his demeanour and body language felt so familiar to Minnie, like sinking into a favourite armchair.

‘So is this a normal Sunday morning activity for you – stealing people’s towels from Hampstead Ponds?’ Quinn asked.

Minnie started towel-drying her hair. ‘No, I just come here to get my fix of hot naked men.’ She nodded towards a man in his seventies with a large belly just emerging from the water in tight brown Speedos. ‘Phwoar.’

Quinn laughed. He opened his mouth to speak and then paused. Finally he spoke.

‘Have you got plans now? I know you’ve turned me down for breakfast in the past.’ Quinn started towel-drying his own hair with Minnie’s towel, and Minnie couldn’t help glancing again at his bare chest and his skintight black swim shorts. She wrapped his towel back around her own body self-consciously.

‘I could do breakfast. Or at least coffee until your next Tinder date turns up.’ Minnie raised her eyebrows at him, brushing a hand through her wet hair. Quinn pushed a tongue into his cheek, his pupils flushed wide. Minnie wondered whether it was the thrill of an early morning swim, or if he enjoyed being teased by her.

‘My mum used to bring me up here when I was little,’ Quinn said, as they walked side by side back through the park after retrieving their clothes. ‘I would sit on the bank reading while she swam.’

‘I find places like this so packed with memories. Visiting them can be like opening a memory jar. You take off the lid and the smells and sounds of a place hit you, unlocking things folded away deep in your brain,’ Minnie said, swinging her towel as she walked. Quinn didn’t respond and she looked over at him. ‘Sorry, that sounded pretentious,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘No,’ Quinn was watching her with an unblinking gaze, ‘that’s exactly how I feel coming here – it’s a memory jar.’

They walked a little further in silence, their footsteps falling into rhythm.

‘You know, for someone so uncompromising in their business vision, you have a lot of self-doubt,’ Quinn said.

Minnie looked at him sideways without turning her head.