1

“It’s a beautiful day, there’s not a cloud in the sky, let’s go wild swimming!”

David wasn’t really in the mood. They had agreed on having a rare off-grid day, with all phones and devices switched off, and he was anticipating a quiet Sunday pottering around followed by nothing more adventurous than a couple of pints in the local pub. But he could tell by Sophie’s irrepressible enthusiasm and non-negotiable tone that it would be easier to go along with her suggestion than endure a day of draining petty squabbles.

“Come on David,” Sophie urged, all too aware of his reluctance to do anything that involved effort, “summer’s nearly over, it could be six months before we get another chance. I’ll make a picnic, we can take the hamper and the cool box. Please, Mister Grumpy, it will be fun – you do remember fun don’t you?”

“Righto babe,” David acquiesced unconvincingly, “but where? I don’t want to go too far, it’s already 10 o’clock.”

“I’ll quickly fill the hamper and pack our swimming stuff while you sort out drinks and roll spliffs and we can be on the road in no time.”

“You still haven’t said where you want to go.”

“I know exactly where we’re going but I want it to be a surprise darling,” said Sophie, utilising the charm David could never resist. “I’ll drive.”

2

They left the house an hour later and headed north with Sophie deliberately avoiding main roads. Before long the temperature had risen above 30°. The atmosphere was muggy and heavy and even with the car windows rolled down there was barely a breath of moving air. The sun dazzled as it climbed higher into an increasingly hazy sky. With their favourite drum and bass tracks playing on the car stereo and the roads surprisingly empty, they were both happy. David lit up one of his spliffs and inhaled deeply. Sophie glanced across at him and thought, I do love him, I’m lucky to have him as a partner, I must treat him better.

“Well, Soph, you still haven’t said where we’re going but I’m guessing it’s one of the lakes in the Beacons,” said David. “Bannau Brycheiniog you mean,” corrected Sophie, trying hard not to sound nit-picking or bossy.

“Nearly there,” teased Sophie as she turned off the B-road into a narrow lane that meandered up a river valley between majestic wooded slopes. After turning into an unmarked road she finally parked on a verge near a little church and got out. “Look David! Llangors lake! It’s all ours!” she cried, excitedly.

3

“Oh it’s so beautiful Soph,” said David once they’d settled on the grassy banks of the lake. “Your crab and rocket sandwiches are delicious, my clever girl”.

Sophie was in her swimming costume already, paddling in the shallows. The cool water felt luxurious in the sweltering heat. “How odd that there’s absolutely nobody around on a sunny Sunday afternoon at the end of August,” she said, “even the birds are staying indoors.”

She pushed herself off into the lake and elegantly stroked through the waters in a large circle before rolling over and effortlessly floating on her back. David, stripped down to his trunks, soon joined her. Both were strong swimmers and for a blissful half hour they were two aquatic creatures revelling in their watery paradise. Then suddenly they heard a voice call out urgently from the waterside. “Hey! You’d better get out! Haven’t you heard the weather forecast? Look at the sky!”

“What the fuck is he on about?” said David in annoyance, but Sophie responded immediately and led them, in powerful freestyle, back to the shore. The man was standing near where they had left their clothes and picnic hamper. “Look at the sky!” he cried again. Sophie and David looked upwards and gasped simultaneously. To the east, over the Black Mountains, the sky with incredible speed was transforming into a terrifying slab of menacing, broiling, surging chaos, galloping towards them and erupting with massive bolts of jagged lightning.

“Hurry, HURRY! Follow me, I’m the churchwarden, we’ll be safe in St Gastyn’s, HURRY!” As the man spoke he was breaking into a sprint, the temperature was plunging dramatically, the sun had disappeared, a deep darkness was descending, unearthly moans and growls got ever louder, a shrieking gale was getting ever more violent and hail-stones the size of golf-balls were transforming the lake into a wild maelstrom. Without hesitation, Sophie ran alongside him. David grabbed the hamper, gathered up their clothes as best as he could and followed some way behind. Still wet and half naked in their swimming gear, their bare feet bled as they pounded over shattered shards of ice.

They tumbled through the lychgate and across the graveyard. The churchwarden thrust the heavy door open and dashed inside with Sophie. She just had time to turn round and look for David when a deafening, ear-splitting roar ripped through the ether accompanied by a blinding flash of light. The ground shuddered and the church’s very foundations shook as if a bomb had detonated. In the spotlight of the lightning bolts Sophie glimpsed David lying smouldering just short of the porch.

4

All electricity had been cut off. Day had turned to night. In the pitch dark Bryn, the churchwarden, found candles and matches in the vestry and soon their flickering glow filled the church. Sophie was huddled in a corner trembling with shock and cold. Bryn covered her with priests’ vestments and guided her to a cushioned pew. He dared to open the church door slightly and wait for the next flash of lightning amid ear-splitting thunder, torrential rain and howling winds. When the flash came, perhaps slightly moving away from Llangors, he caught a brief image of David, charred and very dead. There was nothing he could do until the storm subsided. Oh God help me, he said to himself as he closed the door.

5

“It was a very rare temperature inversion,” said Professor Gwyn Davies at the inquest in Pontypridd, “the sort of extreme weather event that is getting more and more common as the planet heats up far beyond all the worst fears and warnings of climatologists and meteorologists over the last 50 years. An irreversible tipping point has been reached, catastrophes are happening across the globe, millions of people have already been killed and the process has only just begun. Wales was never going to be exempt and David Stradling is just the latest victim of the wicked folly and criminal negligence of the super-rich plutocrats and far-right thugs who have done this to our planet and to the human race.”

Sitting at the back of the Coroner’s Court, Sophie nearly started weeping yet again. But, ever determined and resilient, she pulled herself together straight away, steeled herself for the vital battles that lay ahead and gripped Bryn’s hand tighter.

***