by Lucy Diamond
‘That stuff is so strong,’ Maggie went on. ‘Really, really strong. Drinking spirits might seem wild and grown-up to you, but while your brain is still developing, it’s a bad idea. Plus it’s illegal, by the way. If a police officer had caught you, you’d have been in even bigger trouble.’ She frowned. ‘If you’re going off on your own with friends, I need to be able to trust you.’
‘You can!’ Amelia said.
‘Well, I can’t, can I, if you’re sneaking bottles of booze out and drinking them in broad daylight? Were you trying to impress that boy? Jack, is it? Is that why you did it?’
Amelia scowled and put her pizza down. ‘Dunno,’ she said darkly. Yes, in other words.
‘You don’t need tequila to impress anyone,’ Maggie said, leaning forward. It felt as if she was imparting the biggest life lesson of all; she had to find the right words. ‘Just be you – because being you is more than good enough. You are wonderful, Amelia: funny and clever and fantastic. And anyone who doesn’t think so can . . . Well, they can fuck off, frankly.’
‘MUM!’ Amelia sounded utterly scandalized to hear her mother swear so fruitily. Scandalized and not a little delighted too, Maggie thought, seeing her mouth quirk at the corners.
‘Look, you can talk to me, you know,’ she said. ‘About anything. Boys, growing up, friend dramas . . . any of it. I was young once too, remember.’
Judging from her daughter’s face, Amelia was finding that hard to believe. ‘And we’ll make it a two-way thing, obviously,’ she went on. ‘For instance, you may or may not want to know about the hot date that I’ve got lined up once we’re home, but . . .’
‘WHAT?’ Amelia had screeched so loudly that a couple three tables away turned to stare. And then the lecture was most definitely over, because they were straight into a whole other conversation about Paul, and where Maggie and he were going on their first date, and what she might wear, and how they both felt about the whole thing (‘Quite excited actually,’ Maggie confessed. ‘Go, Mum!’ Amelia cried) and they were laughing and confiding in each other, and yes, thought Maggie, they were going to be okay, she and her girl. She was certain of it.
Waiting now, rather wobbly-legged on the high timber platform amidst the trees, their final harness checks had been completed. ‘You’re all set,’ the staff member assured them.
‘Cool,’ said Amelia, then eyed Maggie suspiciously. ‘Are you sure you want to do this, Mum? You look like you’re about to wet yourself.’
‘I probably am about to wet myself,’ Maggie admitted, rolling her eyes, ‘but I’m doing it anyway. I’m taking the plunge. Ready . . . Steady . . . WAAARRRGGHHHH!’
They leapt off together, Maggie holding on for dear life to the cable as she went whizzing at exhilarating speed down through the forest canopy and over a huge lake. ‘Oh my Gooooooooodddd!’ she shrieked, the air punching out of her lungs.
‘Whoaaaaaaa!’ yelled Amelia. ‘Lean back, Mum, it’s awesome! Woohoooooo!’
‘We’re flying!’ cried Maggie joyfully.
It felt so good. I took the plunge and it felt so good, she thought in astonishment. Look at me go, world. Just watch me fly!
Walking through the exquisitely scented rose garden in the hotel grounds, Olivia heard Mack and the boys before she saw them. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was doing its best to break out through the gauzy clouds when she became aware of the sound of two high-pitched voices somewhere nearby. Her heart thumped immediately, an almost painful sensation, and she found herself turning wildly around to find them, breaking into a run when she saw their matching blonde heads leaning over an ornamental fountain. ‘I’m here! I’m here!’ she called.
‘Mummy!’
‘It’s Mummy!’ they yelped, charging towards her at once.
‘Boys!’ she cried, as they flung themselves at her, Stanley, then Harry. Their small hands gripped her skirt as if they were tethering her to the ground, preventing her from vanishing from them again. Would they remember the week when their mum had disappeared? Would it leave them with insecurities and doubts for evermore? She would make it up to them. She would put this right. If she could look after herself at the same time, she was sure they’d all be better off for it. ‘Oh, I’ve missed you,’ she said and bent her knees into a crouch so that she could hold them properly, her two squirming boys, both clamouring to tell her important things: first, that they’d spotted a penny in the fountain, as well as a gruesome dinosaur story they had listened to in the car on the way.
‘It’s in the water, Mummy, it’s just there, but Daddy said we couldn’t have it because . . .’
‘And the Diplodderers was like BOOF! BAM! And the T-rex was like CHOMP! KILL!’
‘We might fall in and get WET! Or bump our HEADS! So I said . . .’
‘And then they had a fight, and guess who was the winner?’
‘Hello, love,’ said Mack, catching up with them just then, and Olivia gently set the boys down again so that she could stand up and hug him, and remember how good it was to have his arms around her. They stood there for a moment, just leaning against one another, and her eyes felt hot with love for them all, as well as the sheer relief of having made it safely back to them.
‘Mummy, you’re not listening!’
‘Mummy! I said, guess who was the winner?’
Mack laughed at the barrage of protest and interruption currently assailing them from knee height, and they drew apart and smiled at each other. ‘I’m the winner,’ Olivia said to him. That was how it felt, anyway – forget the dinosaurs. ‘Thank you for coming, and for sorting all of this out,’ she added. Mack was so handsome, with his cropped hair and blue eyes, she thought, seeing him anew. So capable and strong. Thank God for him, she thought with a rush of feeling. ‘It’s gorgeous here.’
‘It’s good to see you,’ he said, kissing her. ‘And from now on, things will be different.’ He was so keen to show her he understood, she realized. So earnest about proving his love. ‘I’ve already been looking at my schedule, and I’m going to start delegating more so that I can get home earlier in the evening, help out more often. Whatever needs fixing, we’ll make sure it happens, okay?’
She nodded and then looked down at the boys, both of whose faces were upturned, still talking, still desperate to get her attention. How close she had come to the edge, she thought, with a shudder. How distraught she had felt the last time she’d seen them. But they would fix things, like Mack said, together. They would reset the marble run, have everything running smoothly. Or at least functioning. ‘Have you two been really good for Daddy?’ she asked them.
‘Yes! I have!’
‘I’ve been really good. Haven’t I, Daddy?’
She smiled at their earnestness, their vigorous assurance of model behaviour, times two. ‘Oh, I am glad,’ she said. ‘Because do you know what I saw earlier? A really brilliant playground for good children. Would you like to see it?’
The whoops and shouts were reply enough, as was the bouncing about like blond pogo sticks. After a bit of tussling, because both Harry and Stanley wanted to hold her left hand and seemed prepared to fight to the death for the privilege, they set off towards the playground, all four of them in a line. Anyone glancing over at them would assume they were a normal family on holiday together, nothing more, nothing less. They’d be wrong, but nevertheless Olivia felt okay about hiding behind that interpretation for the time being. She and Mack could work everything else out later.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘Hi,’ said Em, her hand clammy on the phone as she pressed it to her ear. She sank down onto the bed and pulled an anguished face at her reflection in the mirror, as a troupe of butterflies appeared for aerobatics practice in her stomach. She had gone through so many feelings since George’s dismissal of her the night before – devastation, self-recrimination, the acceptance that she was destined to be single forever now, and finally a smouldering sort of anger. Because – hello! – it was kind of rude just to dump someone like that, to
say things hadn’t worked out, bye, as they were halfway out of the door with their ex. Not that she was particularly keen to explore in detail all her faults that had led him to this decision or anything – quite the opposite in fact – but you know. Manners cost nothing, right?
‘Hi,’ George said. Mind you, at least she got to hear that lovely low voice of his one last time, she thought with a pang. She was going to miss it afterwards, if this was the final time they ever spoke. ‘How are you?’
Ugh, and now they were having to be all polite and weird, as if they barely knew each other. How was she? Oh, just marvellous, thanks, George. Bloody peachy! Her hangover was still banging away in her head like a carpenter on a mission and she had barely slept a wink, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. ‘Fine, thanks,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘How are you?’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Sorry I didn’t text last night when we got back – my phone’s only just dried out.’
‘Right,’ she replied, not sure what else to say. It wasn’t as if she’d expected him to text her, after all. Who cared about his journey home when it had meant him leaving her?
Then the conversation took a decidedly unexpected turn. ‘It felt weird waking up without you this morning,’ he went on breezily. ‘I miss you.’
It was lucky she was sitting down, because she forgot to breathe for a moment in her confusion. Why was he saying such a thing?
‘Are you still there?’ he asked, when she didn’t reply.
‘Yes,’ she croaked suspiciously. ‘Look, I . . . I don’t understand.’
There was a pause. ‘What do you mean?’
‘After yesterday . . . what you said.’ George didn’t respond and Em gritted her teeth in frustration. Oh, for heaven’s sake, did she have to spell it out? ‘About us splitting up.’
‘What?’
‘What you said about us not working out – I don’t understand why you’re ringing me now to tell me—’
‘Wait – I didn’t say anything about us not working out. I said the holiday hadn’t worked out, but I didn’t mean us. Did you really think . . .’
He stopped mid-sentence and her head reeled. She stared at her reflection wide-eyed. ‘You . . . oh. Oh,’ she said, blinking. So he hadn’t dumped her? This wasn’t the end? She found herself rewinding that whole scene yesterday and seeing it from a different angle. George, recognizing that things were difficult with Izzie, and giving the two of them space to work it out. George, being a responsible dad and decent human being, not wanting to put his ex through another long car journey.
‘Did you think I was breaking things off?’ he went on. ‘Because of one slightly eventful week in Cornwall?’ He sounded incredulous, she realized, as if such a thing had never occurred to him. He even sounded a bit hurt.
‘Well . . . yes! It hasn’t been the easiest few days,’ she said, thoughts still racing. ‘I mean, it wasn’t exactly the restful, fun time I promised you, was it, what with all the teen dramas and kids falling out and . . .’ And my daughter telling her friends she’d seduced you, and my ex-husband ringing up to bollock me loudly and proclaim you’re some kind of nonce. ‘It’s been a disaster! I just felt so mortified by everything that . . . well, I guess I just assumed the worst.’ She tailed off, feeling like an idiot. A catastrophizing idiot.
‘God, that’s not enough to put me off, Em! You’ll have to try a lot harder than that, you know,’ he said. ‘Besides, we had some really good days too. I enjoyed the holiday! Believe me, I’ve had worse.’
She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a bleat. ‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed. She still couldn’t believe she had got everything so wrong. ‘Again.’
‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘You prat. Honestly.’
‘I am a prat,’ she admitted.
‘Yeah and, just for the record, I’m not planning to ditch our relationship any time soon, but if I was, it wouldn’t be that kind of casual, drive-by dumping,’ he said. ‘Give a man some credit.’
‘Good to know,’ she said drily.
He laughed and then she did too. The ground suddenly seemed more solid beneath her. ‘Anyway. We’re okay, aren’t we?’ he asked. ‘We can move on from this and be all right?’
Her breath came back to her. Here was her second chance. ‘Yes,’ she said gratefully before he could change his mind. ‘We totally can.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I had a message from Izzie, by the way. Really sweet. She said the whole thing yesterday was her fault and nothing to do with you, and apologized for causing trouble.’
‘Gosh. I didn’t know anything about that,’ Em said, blinking. ‘That was nice of her.’ She hesitated, wondering where they went from here. ‘So . . .’ she began, just as he said, ‘Anyway . . .’
She smiled. ‘You go first.’
‘I was ringing to say – as well as hello and I miss you, and I most definitely did not dump you yesterday – that I won’t come back for the rest of the holiday, because I made the mistake of looking at work emails last night and something’s come up. But can we sort out dinner for when you get back? There’s a new tapas place in Suffolk Parade – I thought we could maybe try it out?’
A lightness was filling Em, like air into a balloon. They were going to be okay, she realized. Despite all her angst and misery the night before, they were going to be okay. ‘I’d love to try it out,’ she said. ‘Patatas bravas and Rioja in Suffolk Parade sounds much easier to handle than a fortnight away.’
He laughed. ‘That’s what I thought. Go back a few steps, keep it simple. Is that a yes, then?’
‘Absolutely it’s a yes. And let’s promise never to go on holiday again.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say that. I’m sure there’s a way we could get away for a few days, just the two of us, if Charlotte has Seren and your ex has Izzie and Jack . . .’
Her eyes lit up at the prospect, her imagination already leaping ahead. A boutique bolthole somewhere gorgeous, wandering old streets together hand-in-hand, ordering exotic cocktails in romantic bars and snogging in a corner. An enormous hotel bed with crisp white sheets – and not an interrupting or arguing child in sight, either. ‘Ooh, now you’re talking,’ she said. ‘A proper holiday.’ And why not? They had bloody well earned it, after the week that had just gone by. ‘That’s a great idea.’
‘Good. I thought so too. Well, I’d better go,’ he said. ‘But let’s make a plan once you’re back.’
‘Tapas and plans – I’m in,’ she said, feeling a goofy smile spreading across her face. ‘Good to talk to you, George.’
‘You too,’ he said.
Em felt starry-eyed as they said goodbye and hung up, then she flopped back onto her bed and danced her legs around with happiness. Yes! Yes! A second chance lay ahead, at a tapas bar in Suffolk Parade, and an as-yet-unbooked hotel room somewhere sexy. There was hope still to be had, and by the bucket-load. And a daughter to thank, too!
She knocked on Izzie’s door and poked her head round to see Izzie lying on her bed, smiling as she typed into her phone. ‘Hi,’ said Em. ‘I’ve just spoken to George – I gather you sent him a message earlier.’
Izzie’s smile froze and then became something resembling anxiety. She rolled over and sat up, her phone abandoned. ‘Is that okay?’ she asked worriedly. ‘I just wanted to make things right. Is he . . . cross?’
Em sat on the bed and put an arm around her. ‘No, he’s not cross. I think we’re going to be all right, to be honest. Disaster averted.’ She gave Izzie a squeeze. ‘Thank you for whatever you said to him. It was really thoughtful of you. Really mature.’
‘That’s okay. I’m sorry I . . . you know. Mucked things up to start with.’
Em stroked her hair. ‘Well, I’m sorry that I mucked up your holiday by inviting George and Seren along, without talking to you and Jack first. I won’t do that again, okay? And we’ve got the second week all to ourselves, so from now on, your wish is my command. I know Jack is very keen to go rafting and zorbing and what have you,
and if there’s something special you want to do, then please do say the word. I’m all yours.’
Izzie’s face became suffused with a blush. ‘Um. Well. Actually . . .’ Her eyes swung down to the phone beside her. ‘So you know how last night I was asking if I could go out with a friend, and you said no?’
Aha. Somehow, in all the palaver of the night before, Em had forgotten about this mysterious new friend. ‘Yes,’ she replied, intrigued.
Izzie started twizzling her hair round one finger, her face practically aglow with her smile. ‘Well, I met this boy yesterday . . .’
‘Oh, you did, did you?’
‘And I was wondering . . . Could I maybe meet him this afternoon? He’s called Fraser and he just texted to see if I was around.’
‘I see.’ Oh goodness. Fraser. Was this Izzie’s first holiday romance waiting to unfurl and blossom? It had to happen sooner or later, she supposed. ‘And . . . do you think I would approve of this Fraser? Is he nice to you? How old is he?’ She had to snap her mouth shut before she went full Spanish Inquisition.
‘He’s really nice,’ said Izzie. ‘He’s seventeen and . . . Well, I approve, so . . .’
Em smiled. A very diplomatic answer. ‘Then . . . yes. Sure. Do you want me to give you a lift somewhere?’ She remembered then how they’d driven past Izzie just as they’d got back to the cottage yesterday, how sparkly-eyed and radiant she had looked, despite the drenching rain, despite the slog uphill on her bike. With the drama of Charlotte arriving and Dom’s phone call, it hadn’t even occurred to Em to wonder where her daughter had been all day. Getting to know this Fraser, apparently. Nice, seventeen-year-old, approval-worthy Fraser. It was all happening, this week, that was for sure.
‘It’s okay, I’ll go on my bike,’ Izzie replied.
‘Okay, well . . .’ Em felt she should be giving Izzie a lecture here, a list of dos and don’ts, but perhaps she wasn’t the best-qualified person to give any kind of dating advice. So instead she gave her a hug and said, ‘Have a lovely time. Keep me posted, won’t you? He can join us for dinner if you want or . . .’
