Vicki Jarrett, author of Capital-based novel Nothing is Heavy, recalls making a splash.
“It’s been a rainy start to the year. This might be down to climate change but, to be fair, I don’t remember Edinburgh being any drier when I was a kid.
“I do remember the sore red stripes where the tops of my wellies were forever rubbing against my bare shins but have no memory whatsoever of sunburn. I was born in Broomfield Crescent in Carrick Knowe and used to walk to and from school on my own from an early age.
“When it rained heavily, one of the sivers on Broomhall Road would always block and a huge puddle would cover the pavement and most of the road. Trailing back from school one day, I saw a couple of kids seeming to walk across the surface of the water without getting their shoes wet.
“Magic, I thought. They assured me it was easy. Turned out if you didn’t know the exact locations of the bricks they’d submerged in the water, it could all go horribly wrong. I fell face first into at least a foot of muddy water and flailed around wildly, convinced I was drowning before hauling myself to my feet, soaked from head to toe.
“The sensible thing would’ve been to run home but when a kind lady from a nearby house came and hustled me into her warm front room, I wasn’t arguing. To this day, I’ve no idea who my saviour was but she gave me hot chocolate, wrapped me in big warm towels and dried my clothes in front of her fire.
“It was at least an hour before I eventually headed home to my, by then, frantic mother. These days no one would dream of taking a random child into their house, no matter how drenched they were. So, some things have certainly changed, but the rain isn’t one of them.”