They stand at the edge, the clear water waiting. They are at the deep end where the bigger children play. She places her arms around her brother’s shoulder and whispers, “I’m little; you’re littler. You go first.”
Her calm, quiet words mask her insincerity. He relaxes into her embrace, trusting and smiling back.
She pushes him into the pool with a joyful squeal. He goes down with a gurgle and surfaces with a splutter, his armbands buoying his watery laughter. She leaps and they flounder together, splashing back to the side, whilst parents shout and call for calm.