Josh nods off in my arms and I lie him down on a folded rug and make sure he’s properly shaded. I thought he would be miserable in the heat, but it’s the opposite. He positively embraces the sun. His skin has tanned gently under the Factor 50, his hair has bleached almost white and he’s sleeping through the night. And what’s good for Josh Seagrave is good for all of us.
I dive in, swim under water and tickle Emily’s toes. She kicks out at me, grabs me as I surface and climbs on to my shoulders. Not to be outdone, Sophie joins her, wrapping her arms around my neck and practically choking me. I duck down, slip out of their grasp and swim away laughing.
At some point in the morning I go in to fetch a handful of loose change for the girls to dive after. My phone pings as I’m shaking the contents of my purse into my hand. My heart sinks. A text from David. I thought I had made it perfectly clear that we were over.
I never saw you naked.
I go bright red. That’s splitting hairs. I did get down to my bra and knickers before I bottled out. This is becoming intrusive. I text him back then wish I hadn’t as soon as I’ve sent it. It would have been far more sensible to have ignored it.
Please do not contact me again.
Back outside I fling the coins into the water and sit down beside Amber. She pulls her sunglasses down her nose and looks at me over the frames.
‘What is it?’
I show her the text silently.
She giggles. ‘Oh dear.’
‘It’s not funny, Amber. I really don’t need this right now.’
‘No. You’re right. I shouldn’t laugh. What are you going to do about it?’
‘Fuck knows. Nothing, I expect. He’s an intelligent man, he’ll get the hint. Either that or someone else will take his fancy.’
‘Mummy,’ Emily shouts. ‘We found them all. Now you come in.’
She slaps the wet coins down on the stone where they gleam like salvaged bullion. I grimace at Amber, fling them in and dive-bomb after them, splashing the girls and making them squeal. We dive over and over again and most of the time I let them win, but not always, and it’s because I’m underwater, searching for an elusive euro, that I don’t hear the car pulling up around the front of the villa, or its door thunking shut before it drives away. And because I’ve turned my back on the sun, I only realize that something’s happened when Emily screams, ‘Granny!’ and swims to the side of the pool.
When I see my mother standing with her arms out as my children race towards her, I want to shout for joy. Tom grins from ear to ear.
‘Surprise!’ he says.
I don’t stop to thank him. I get out and grab the towel that’s draped over the end of Amber’s lounger, and as I do, I catch her expression. She looks dismayed. I pull the towel around my shoulders like a cloak and run, leaving wet footsteps on the paving.
‘Mum! I don’t believe it. When did you plan this?’
‘Tom twisted my arm. What a beautiful house.’ She hugs me and I wriggle, laughing, out of her embrace. She’s dressed absurdly in a black gypsy skirt, a peacock-blue beaded top, straw hat and earrings made out of blue and green feathers.
Amber puts her book aside, strolls over and kisses her on both cheeks. Mum makes Amber look tiny.
‘Maggie. How are you? It’s been ages.’
I get the feeling that she’s not altogether pleased at this turn of events. My mother and my best friend don’t harmonize. I noticed it at the christenings.
‘The last time was Josh’s christening, wasn’t it? And this must be Sophie,’ Mum says. ‘I remember you very well. You liked my chocolate cake.’
She tells Tom how handsome he’s looking and then the girls claim her for a guided tour and they wander off, Emily demanding to know who’s looking after Max, Sophie informing her that she’s been teaching Emily to dive.
Amber goes back to her lounger and picks up her book. She doesn’t trust herself yet. Why didn’t Tom warn her? It was one thing keeping it a secret from Vicky, but she should have been part of it. She’s been made to feel the outsider, as per usual. Maggie looks good; healthy and young. She ought not to. She ought to look beaten down by guilt. Does she have no conscience? Why should Amber be the one to feel self-hatred and disgust, and Maggie just breeze through life as though it had never happened?
She can hear her voice, calling to the girls, laughing at them, admiring the house. Amber leans forward and peers round her parasol. Maggie is on Amber’s terrace, Vicky standing behind her. Tom shouts, asking if anyone wants a coffee and Maggie calls back. Polly giggles. Happy families. Sophie is more a part of it than she is.
What should she do? It was one thing merging into the background at parties, Maggie too busy with her grandchildren and her own guests to notice Vicky and Tom’s friends, especially since she was one of many. Even when she became Polly’s godmother, Maggie seemed insensible. But then Maggie had been in charge of Emily, who was barely two at the time and a handful. Now they would be together for a week, moving in the same spaces, having conversations, making eye contact. Amber fingers her hair. When she was young it had been much blonder and cut to just below her shoulders, parted in the middle. Now it was longer, darker, shaggier, with a soft fringe. As a child, she had been elfin and under-nourished. She’s still slim and petite, but she has a healthy glow and adult features. It’s conceivable Maggie might take a couple of days, but she’ll get there in the end. At any rate, Amber needs to be ready. Or perhaps even intercept her? She doesn’t want her telling tales to Vicky. She thinks she’ll be too scared to do that though, because Amber has a tale or two of her own up her sleeve.
‘Thank you. That was a really lovely surprise, Tom. I’m touched.’
‘Good. I’m glad.’
We walk along companionably, talking mostly about the children. Then I go and spoil the moment.
‘I get the feeling Amber isn’t very pleased about Mum.’
‘Why wouldn’t she be?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps she doesn’t like not being the centre of attention.’
His eyebrows connect. ‘Vicky, sometimes you have the sensitivity of a rhino. She’s embarrassed. I should have warned her. She wangled an invitation to stay longer when all the time your mum was coming and it was going to be a family thing. She thinks she’s in the way and there’s absolutely nothing she can do about it.’ Josh has started whining. Tom tilts his head and talks to him, his mouth against his hair.
‘I suppose it could be that.’
‘Well, what else could it be?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say irritably.
He kisses my temple, pulling me against him. Josh doesn’t like this and grabs a handful of my hair.