For many, swimming classes were a lot of fun. I would get into the pool, swim to the other side and when I turned to come back, found Andrew not with me but sitting on the side, crying. I never knew what was wrong exactly, but he was my best friend and I wasn’t going to let him sit up there alone. I swam back to where I had started, climbed out of the pool and sat next to him. I’m not sure what we talked about, but soon tears were forgotten and we’d giggle and laugh, most likely about the Chuckle Hounds, or some cartoon or other we’d seen.
What I still wonder, and what harrowed me for many nights after, was whether Andrew had an inner sense, a foreboding of what was to come.