She stood frozen, then lowered her arms slowly, bowed her head. ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t,’ she said and started to shuffle on but felt a hand grab her arm and pull her back. She swung her free arm up to strike it away, but the grip was too tight and as she tried to wrench herself loose she slipped and fell heavily backwards pulling a naked body down with her into a flurry of foam and seething water on to the rock, struggling violently against the restraining arms and the weight of the stone-filled pockets of her jacket. A vicious blow across her face stilled her suddenly, and choking and retching from the water which she had swallowed she allowed herself to be dragged slowly up the shelving rock until her head and shoulders were clear of the swirling sea, and she lay, half in, half out, gasping, sobbing, snorting; mucus, tears and salt water streaming down her ashen face. The hands were pulling at the pockets, the stones dragged out and rolled away, and then they were under her shoulders and she was inched up out of the water, rolled on to her face and pummelled violently so that she retched, gulped, spluttered. And lay still.

‘You’re all right. Didn’t swallow much. What the bloody hell were you up to?’

The arms dragged her to a slumped sitting position; she rested against a wet body, her eyes closed tightly; a hand, smoothed hair away from her face, brushed it gently back over her ears. I suppose I lost the ribbon, she thought, and tried to open her eyes. A blur of stinging water. The hand wiped her face with strong, careful fingers. She regained focus; the flat, shining sea, the shadowy blue across the bay, a gull wheeling idly. She looked slowly up into the face of a young man, blue eyes narrowed, firm mouth, good brow creased with anxiety, fair hair sea-sleek to his head. She regarded him through half-closed eyes: he appeared to be completely naked.

‘You’ve cut your knee,’ she said, and started to cough. He pushed her forward and thumped her on the back a couple of times. She waved a weak hand to stop him.

‘I’m all right. It hurts to do that.’ She lay back against his raised leg, catching her breath.

‘All right? Got your wind?’

‘You interfered.’

‘Got any more of those?’

‘What?’ She closed her eyes against the glare of the sun.

‘Clichés. What was I supposed to do? Just sit on my arse and watch you walk on the waters?’

‘It’s my business. This is private land, you know.’

‘I didn’t know. You could have broken your neck.’

‘You interfered, pushed me over on the rock. My arm hurts.’

He suddenly moved away from her, and she flopped heavily on to her back, staring up at him.