by Lucy Diamond
She blinked away a tear. ‘Well, I really appreciate it,’ the woman at the door was saying. ‘And obviously if there’s anything I can do for you or your family, in return, I’m just over there, Briar Cottage.’
Ah, okay. It must be Emma, thought Lorna, the woman who had booked on Christmas Day. You always got a few people booking then – drunk, bored or a cheering-up exercise? she’d often wondered, fascinated. She put the mug upside down on the draining rack, then sat back down again, curious to know if Olivia was going to correct Emma on the mention of her family. No, it appeared not.
‘Thank you’ was all she said.
‘I’ll bump into you around the pool, no doubt,’ the woman said. ‘I’m Em, by the way.’
‘Olivia,’ replied Olivia. ‘Nice to meet you. And thanks for this!’
She returned, rather pink in the cheeks, bearing a bottle of red wine, and Lorna got to her feet once more, feeling as if she had overstayed her welcome. ‘I won’t keep you,’ she said. ‘Thank you for the tea. Do knock, won’t you, if you need anything? I’m always on hand if you want a chat.’ Then, worried it might sound as if she were prying, she tried to adopt a brighter note. ‘Especially if you’ve got anything else to tell me about Aidan!’
Was it Lorna’s imagination or did a strange, almost fearful look pass over Olivia’s face? The poor thing obviously still carried a torch for him, she thought, letting herself out and hurrying back home. But, let’s face it – who wouldn’t?
Chapter Seventeen
Em was starting to feel as if a curse had been put upon the holiday. If it wasn’t one thing going tits-up this week, it was another. When George had rung her in Falmouth to say that Izzie was back home and seemed okay, she had actually burst into tears in front of kind Maggie, because she just couldn’t cope with the drama any more. She’d got home, hugged Izzie and apologized, and then she’d had to apologize to George too, for tearing out of the house like a lunatic. God! If they made it to the end of this fortnight still together, it would be a miracle. She was longing for one single day when nothing catastrophic happened. One measly little day. Was it so much to ask?
Still, the main thing was that Izzie was all right, even though Em still hadn’t got to the bottom of how it had come about that her daughter had been brought back by a fellow holidaymaker, no less, staying right there on the other side of the swimming pool. How on earth had the two of them recognized each other, for starters? She didn’t even know there was another family in the third cottage, and she was not a woman to miss that sort of detail.
Anyway. Whatever. Em had plundered her booze stash and taken over a bottle of Merlot for Maggie, to thank her for her company and sanity on the Falmouth hunt, and then another for the mysterious Olivia, as thanks for her part in the story. (Yes, okay, also to have a little bit of a nosy at her.) Jesus, Em, you’ve managed to get the whole bloody gang involved in your chaos, her sister Jenny would have said, had she been here to witness the spectacle. Thank heavens she was not.
One day, Em was most definitely going to turn into the elegant, composed sort of woman she longed to be, whose life passed serenely without anyone yelling or fighting or running away. A woman like Charlotte, presumably. In the meantime, was she a person to let life knock her down? No, she was not. Which was why she’d suggested they spend the afternoon at the pool, in the hope of some happy bonding time. Izzie was kind of lukewarm about joining them and said she was going to catch up with her friends online, but everyone else gamely put on their swimming things and jumped right in. And soon they were having a good time, playing silly games together and laughing a lot, just like a proper family. The sun was out, the water was warm, Daddy Fox was drying out on his very own sun lounger and, oh goodness, George did look fantastically hot in a pair of swimming trunks. Seeing his bare sculpted chest and back, it was difficult to restrain herself from twining her legs around him under the water.
And yet . . . Did he still even want that from her? she wondered anxiously, retreating to a corner of the pool and propping her elbows on the wet concrete lip. Was he not tiring, just a little, of the real Em, now that he had seen her at her most shrill and stressed that afternoon? She had tried so hard to keep up appearances, to be the perfect holiday girlfriend for him, but she knew the mask had slipped earlier, revealing the mess of her true self beneath. Spending so much time in close proximity made you vulnerable, she had realized. With hindsight, it might have been better to keep the relationship on a more detached setting: dates where she only had to be charming and witty for a few hours, nights where she could throw her energies into being seductive and seduced, safe in the knowledge that he’d leave in the morning and she could slob about enjoyably in her old dressing gown in privacy afterwards. If only she had considered this earlier, before she went and blurted out her invitation to him!
As if sensing her doubts, George swam over to her and leaned on the edge of the pool beside her. ‘You okay?’ he asked. His bronzed wet arms gleamed in the sunlight, and she had to resist the urge to lay her head on them.
‘Yeah,’ she said. I’m just a girl in a slightly too-tight bikini standing in front of a boy with a sexy wet body, asking him to love her, she thought. Thankfully she didn’t say that out loud, though. Not least because she hadn’t qualified as being a ‘girl’ for more than twenty-five years. ‘Sorry about earlier. Me flying off the handle in a panic.’
He seemed unperturbed. ‘That’s okay. It all got a bit hectic, didn’t it?’
‘It did a bit.’ They smiled at each other rather apprehensively, then both spoke at once. ‘I’m finding it—’ she confessed just as he said, ‘I guess that’s the downside of—’
Then they stopped. ‘You first,’ she said, losing her nerve.
‘I was just going to say, that’s the downside of going on holiday with kids – your attention’s divided all the time, there are so many people to please.’
‘Yes,’ she replied gratefully. Exactly. And for a people-pleaser like Em, she had felt pulled in all directions. ‘It’s not easy, trying to navigate our own thing when we’re both having to be mum and dad as well. I hope this wasn’t . . .’ She swallowed, not sure if she dared say the words in case he went and agreed with them. ‘I hope this wasn’t too much too soon,’ she managed after a moment, gazing up at him worriedly through her eyelashes.
He put his hand on her arm and her stomach gave a slow, delicious flip. Actual goosebumps pimpled up like soldiers standing to attention. ‘At least we still get to be together,’ he said.
She nodded, lost in his eyes, the world suddenly contracting around them to this small private moment. His skin on hers. The water gently rippling against their bodies. A universe where only the two of them existed and they understood one another perfectly. Maybe later on tonight they could sneak out for more of an X-rated dip together beneath the cover of darkness. She shivered with pleasure as all sorts of erotic images tumbled into her mind. Now that would improve the holiday no end.
Then she squealed in shock as a small person dive-bombed into the water beside her, spraying Em full in the face.
‘Daddy!’ cried the small person – Seren, unsurprisingly. ‘Play with me now. My leg is still hurting a bit you know.’
George gave Em a rueful smile. Here we go again. ‘Hold that thought,’ he told her, winking as if he’d read her mind a moment earlier. Then he scooped up Seren and hoisted her high in the air, which made her shriek with excitement. ‘Right, you little munchkin, where shall I throw you?’
Em tanked up and down a few times – the pool was too small to swim lengths really, but at least you could clock up five or six very easily, and then Jack suggested a lilo race, just the two of them, and soon she could feel her equilibrium returning. This was good. This was great, actually – the four of them, having fun, nobody arguing or being jealous or having a strop. Relax, Em. Capture it in your mind’s eye like a perfect family photograph: proof that some parts of the holiday were a success. Click!
‘Your t
urn, George,’ Jack said, when it became clear that he was beating his mother with far too much ease. He turned a splashy somersault in the water and grinned. ‘Front-crawl sprint. Although I hope you’re not going to be a bad loser about this, when I win.’
George laughed. ‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘I’ll swim with Seren on my back and I’ll still beat you. Are we on?’
‘In your dreams!’ Jack retaliated. ‘Me against you, so you don’t have any excuses when I annihilate you. Prepare to weep man-tears of shame, George. Mum, you’re the judge. Seren, give us a Ready, Steady, Go.’
The two of them lined up in racing positions on the far side of the pool, arms bent back behind them, feet against the wall, ready to push off.
‘READY STEADY GO!’ yelled Seren at the top of her voice.
SPLASH! Forward they plunged, water foaming around their shoulders as they surged across the pool. ‘Go on, Jack!’ Em cheered, recognizing the determination on her son’s face. She dodged out of the way as they drew near, neck-and-neck, both finding an extra burst of speed for the final metre. Down slapped their hands on the pool’s edge. ‘Jack wins by a finger!’ she decreed, which made him whoop and leap in the air.
‘I’ll get you next time,’ George said, holding out a hand to shake. ‘Oh hey, Izzie,’ he said just then.
Em turned to see her daughter strutting towards them, wearing only a pair of mirrored aviator shades plus a tiny – and Em really did mean tiny – black bikini. Where had that come from? She must have picked it up in town with her mates, because Em certainly would not have willingly purchased it for her.
‘My eyes, my eyes,’ Jack groaned, clapping a hand over his face as he saw his sister. ‘Jesus, Iz, you’re scaring the horses.’
‘What horses?’ Seren asked.
Em felt flustered. There was something a bit seedy about seeing your own beautiful teenage daughter looking like a sex object. Looking womanly, with far shapelier thighs than her own mother and an enviably toned stomach. In the blink of an eye, Izzie had blossomed from a sporty, ponytailed girl in school uniform into this . . . well, this beautiful young woman, frankly, all hips and boobs. What with Jack suddenly becoming interested in girls and now Izzie turning into this goddess, Em felt as if someone had pressed a fast-forward button on her children’s lives. Or was it that she hadn’t paid enough attention to them lately?
‘Jump in! The water’s lovely,’ she urged Izzie, with just a fraction of desperation in her voice. Cover yourself up! Too much bare flesh on display here.
Izzie didn’t jump in, though. She sat at the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the water, with a strange look on her face. It was hard to read her expression while those mirrored sunglasses were down. ‘You had a phone call, George,’ she said in this artless sort of way. She tossed her head so that her long tawny hair fell swishily down her back, then turned her gaze back towards him. ‘It was a woman.’
It was weird, the way she said it, carefully enunciated, loaded almost. Oh God, thought Em immediately. What woman? What had happened?
George seemed to be taking great care not to look directly at Izzie. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Any woman in particular, or did you not get that far?’
‘Your ex-wife,’ Izzie said, which was rude, seeing as Charlotte did have a name, and Em was fairly sure her daughter knew it. She raised an eyebrow. ‘I told her you were semi-naked and a bit tied up with Mum, so . . .’
Oh Lord. Charlotte calling from Berlin, presumably to find out what the drama had been about earlier when George had tried to get through. And Izzie had felt it necessary to say that?
‘Right,’ said George. Despite being pretty much the most easy-going, amiable person Em had ever met, even he appeared kind of irritated at this. ‘Another time just give me a shout, I could easily have come in to talk to her. Does she want me to call back?’
Izzie lifted a single shoulder in a couldn’t-care-less shrug. She must still be smarting with George over the Seren business earlier, Em realized wretchedly.
‘Right,’ said George again, with a certain amount of weariness. ‘I’d better go in and talk to her.’ He hauled himself out of the pool, water running down his back and arms. ‘Won’t be long.’
‘Me too,’ Seren cried at once. ‘I want to talk to Mummy as well!’ A whining note had entered her voice as she clambered up the pool steps, still wearing the flamingo rubber ring. ‘To tell her about being hurt. Being pushed!’
Izzie scowled and Em’s smile became fixed like a mask as they went inside. Moments later, it was Jack’s turn to heave himself onto the side. ‘I’m starving,’ he said, ambling towards the house.
‘Okay, well, don’t drip everywhere,’ Em called after him. ‘Dry your feet before you go in!’
He showed no sign of responding or even having heard her, and Em sighed, feeling her holiday-fun mood leaking away, like the stale air from a punctured lilo. ‘Fancy a swim, Iz?’ she asked weakly, but Izzie merely snorted and tossed her hair before padding back inside.
Right. And then there was one, Em thought, swishing her legs gently underwater as she leaned against the pool’s smooth concrete lip. Maybe she would just stay here a while, leave George to deal with everything. Ignore any shouts of argument. Duck her head underwater so that she didn’t have to hear the next fight.
But just then there came the slap of approaching flip-flop footsteps, light and quick, and Olivia was walking towards the pool, wearing a bright turquoise one-piece with a towel around her waist. ‘Hi,’ she said shyly, as Em turned. ‘You don’t mind if I join you, do you?’
‘Of course not,’ cried Em, the erstwhile hostess.
Olivia put her towel down on one of the loungers and approached the pool, twizzling her long blonde hair up with a scrunchie. ‘Oof,’ she said, as she began descending the steps into the water. ‘Not as warm as I was hoping.’ She had a sweet high voice, a round face beneath her blonde hair. Late thirties, Em guessed.
‘It’s fine once you’ve done a few lengths,’ Em promised as the other woman hesitated, two steps down. ‘Just throw yourself in and swim fast for a minute and you’ll be okay.’ She glanced over to Briar Cottage, its windows reflecting blankly back at her. What was happening in there? she wondered distractedly.
There was a small muffled scream as Olivia plunged in and executed a splashy breaststroke across the pool and back, the blonde topknot wobbling frantically on top of her head. ‘Okay, I’m warming up,’ she said, bicycling her legs underwater and rubbing her plump pale shoulders. ‘I’m all right. If I keep telling myself that, it might come true anyway.’
‘I’ve been doing that a lot this holiday,’ Em said, deadpan. She began swimming again herself, a lazy crawl that meant she could still talk. ‘So are you here with your family? I didn’t even know anyone was staying in your cottage. You must have been very quiet!’
‘Oh,’ said Olivia and, to Em’s intrigue, two spots of colour appeared on her cheeks. ‘Well, I’m sort of taking a breather from family life actually, so . . .’
Em reached the edge of the pool and turned, waiting for Olivia to finish the sentence, but the other woman didn’t say anything else. Taking a breather from family life? What the hell did that mean? ‘Ah,’ she said, feeling awkward. ‘Sorry. None of my business. Um . . . Are you staying here long?’
‘Just a few days,’ Olivia said vaguely. ‘Surprise holiday, you could say.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Em. ‘What, you mean . . . ?’ Suddenly a whole new story was forming in her head. A really good, enviable sort of story. ‘Don’t tell me. Your husband sorted out a mini-break for you in Cornwall as a treat to get you through the summer holidays?’
‘Something like that,’ Olivia said, cheeks still pink. Perhaps a little embarrassed at how lucky she was.
‘Oh my God,’ sighed Em, unable to imagine such a scenario. ‘How utterly blissful. What an amazing husband you’ve got! And it was a surprise, did you say?’
Olivia hesitated for a moment. ‘I had no idea I wa
s coming here till the day I set off,’ she replied and Em let out a whistle.
‘Nice,’ she said, astonished that any woman could be so fortunate. ‘Jesus, I picked the wrong guy to marry. My first husband, I mean,’ she clarified quickly, seeing Olivia’s puzzled face. ‘George is . . . a second try,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘New boyfriend. First time holidaying together. Possibly the last too, if my children keep sabotaging things as they have been so far.’
Olivia laughed, probably thinking Em was joking.
If only, she thought, with another wary glance back at the cottage.
Chapter Eighteen
Right! Maggie was going out of the house. It was mid-afternoon, but she still had time to do something and act like a normal person on holiday, so there. So there, Will! He wasn’t about to stop her enjoying herself.
It had been talking to Em earlier, on the way back from their abortive Falmouth trip, that had changed Maggie’s perspective on this new aloneness. When she’d said, rather miserably, that Amelia was at her dad’s and she was on her own as a result, her fellow holidaymaker’s reaction had shone a whole different light on the situation. ‘What, so you’ve got two days of holiday all to yourself? Mate!’ Em had cried, slapping the steering wheel. ‘Seriously? I am wildly jealous of you right now, Maggie. Wildly jealous! What are you going to do?’
‘Well . . .’ Maggie had started but then stopped again, not knowing where to take the rest of the sentence. Especially seeing as she’d been sweeping the floor and listening to Radio 4 earlier when Em had knocked on the door.