Prologue

      Dan lets go of both oars and searches the front pockets of his jeans, looking more anxious by the second.

      “Shit,” he says. “Where’ve I put it?”

      I take no notice, as I’m too busy lounging in the stern of the dinghy and trailing my fingers in the water. The sky is intensely blue and I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. (I’m about to get even happier, though I don’t know that yet.)

      “A-ha!” says Dan. “I’ve found it. Thank God for that.”

      I’m still not looking at him, because now I’m friend-spotting amongst the groups of art school students celebrating the end of finals on the banks of the Serpentine in Hyde Park. The sun’s so bright, I can’t see properly without the sunglasses I dropped overboard the last time Dan kissed me, so I just wave vaguely in the direction of the crowds.

      Someone shouts something unintelligible across