He pulled himself out of the water and stood dripping before her, smoothing his hair over his head. The water slid like crystal beads down his skin.

‘You’re being a bit serious, aren’t you?’

She shook her head and laughed up at him. ‘Only a little, little bit, so tiny.’ She measured it between forefinger and thumb. ‘No. I’m glad you are happy; really. And I am happy also.’

‘Well, if it’ll really make you happier, I’ll wear it.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She pulled a toe thoughtfully. ‘Cuckoo wouldn’t mind.’

‘No, she wouldn’t mind. Of course not. But, I mean, well … you wouldn’t see Archie Charlie wearing anything like that, would you?’

‘But he’s different! He’s quite different.’

‘He’d look really freaky.’

‘But they are different from us. I think you don’t remember that sometimes. We can’t be like them; it’s only a little holiday we are having; and then we must go back to being who we really are. You know that, don’t you?’

He sat down slowly beside her, put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Yah. I know that. Canteloupe Road and bring your own plug. I haven’t forgotten.’

‘And the van, and Mr Bender. You know …’ She wasn’t looking at him but pushing a finger worriedly between her toes.

‘You think I’ll get to like all this too much? Turn my head, or whatever?’

She looked up at him finally, her eyes half-smiling. ‘You could. It would be so easy, and then so dreadful to go back – which we have to do.’

He hugged her tightly to him. ‘You’re the most awful fuss-pot, really. Look: Leni. I’m having a ball, we both are, we’ve never had anything like this in our lives before. All my life I’ve been walking past other people’s gardens with bloody great “Keep Out!” signs everywhere, but this time the fence was down and they said, “Come in”, and here I am. And I like it. I love it. I simply, absolutely, bang on, cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die love it. But it won’t change anything, it won’t change our lives. I’ll go back when the time comes, I’ll go back. I know I have to; but at least I can say I’ve been there; and that’s good enough for me. See?’

She nodded, took his face in her hands and kissed him on the lips. ‘I see. I know. I don’t mind about the T-shirt, honestly, anyway I like you much better like this, bare, and wet.’ She slid her hand across his chest, pinched his nipple. He cried out, and she pushed him gently backwards on to the stones, lay half across him pressing her mouth hard to his, her fists tight to his ears, her small tongue seeking. His arms reached for her and pulled her closer to him and somewhere far across the still morning a ship’s siren sounded, deep and pulsing, three short blasts. Leni twisted away from his grip and buried her head in his neck.