The rain came in a noisy rush, a thousand fat raindrops slapping the surface of the lake. Thunder rumbled in the distance like a squadron of fighter planes. Rivulets of water ran along the cracked earth and the smell of warm mud filled the air.
My first thought was to run for shelter but Grace had thrown back her head and was lifting her face to meet the rain. For a moment she stayed perfectly still, as if she wanted it to drench her completely, then in one quick movement she stood up and pulled her blouse over her head.
'Come on Nora!' she shouted over the din.
'What?' I said, but she was already ripping off the rest of her clothes, not caring where they fell; her dress, her petticoat, the brassiere that she had stiched together from an old satin bedspread - and then, to my shock, her navy blue knickers, which she pushed down and stood naked in front of me, her hands on her hips.