Lucy surfaced in the shockingly cold rollicking sea and kicked off her shoes before diving to meet the next wave. She thanked her stars she had worked on her swimming last term at school. But as she surfaced once more and pushed the wet hair out of her face, she realised that she was swimming not with the measured stroke of a schoolgirl, but with her old Narnian athleticism. She looked down at her arms and saw they were sinewy and strong as once they had been. She turned quickly in the water, searching for Edmund, and saw him swimming a few yards away, staring at her out of his more familiar face: older, wiser, a handsome man in the bloom of youth. He tried to say something to her, but at that instant, Eustace pulled him under. He wrangled their cousin and surfaced, holding Eustace with one arm and treading water with ease.

And then someone snatched Lucy's waist from behind. She turned in the water and found her body pressed to Caspian's. They stared into each other's face in amazement, and Lucy felt the roundness of her breasts pressed against the hard muscle of his chest. She breathed out a sigh of relief; she understood herself again at last. Before she could fully form the next thought, reach the thrumming beginning inside her, Edmund and Caspian fastened a rope around her waist and she was wrenched from the water, heaved dripping onto the deck, a Queen in schoolgirl's clothes. She giggled at the thought of what she must look like.