The tutor shows
The Corn Street baths opened in 1908 and closed on a Tuesday in August, and for the last hour they let anybody in for nothing. There were more people in the water that afternoon than there had been on any day Idris could remember, and he had been coming since he was four.
The tiles round the shallow end were the color of weak tea where the water had been for a hundred and sixteen years, and green in the corners nobody could reach with a brush. The high windows threw long bars of light across the surface, and the noise came back off the roof the way it always had, so that everybody sounded like they were shouting from further away than they were.
At four o’clock the attendant blew the whistle and everybody got out. Nobody argued about it.
They opened the valve at half past. Idris sat on the edge with his feet in and watched the level drop past the second tile, and then the third, and after a while he could not feel the water any more.
Why does knowing the ending change the opening?