Stella came back out into the garden after getting changed. The kids were still splashing about at the edge of the pool. Sonny shouted, ‘Hey Mum, do you wanna race me?’
Stella shook her head. ‘No thanks, I’m exhausted.’
Moira was taking a tour of the garden with one of the women who’d been having breakfast when they arrived, nodding profusely as various plants were pointed out to her and described in Portuguese. ‘Lovely, just lovely,’ she kept saying.
Stella watched with a smirk, knowing her mother didn’t have the faintest idea what was being said.
Her dad appeared next to her, freshly showered and back in his sweat shorts and T-shirt. ‘Here,’ he said, handing Stella a bottle of water from the vending machine, ‘I got you one.’ His own bottle in his other hand.
Stella paused, staring at the bottle for a second before taking it from him. ‘Thanks,’ she said.
He shrugged like it was nothing. But to Stella it felt like the closest she would get to his apology.
Then Sonny and Rosie called him over to show him some game they were playing flicking water. Stella watched, sipping her water, feeling as though for the first time in years she was finally allowed to relax. Her frown had lessened. Her baseline was happier.
Jack came over and put his arm around her. ‘Are you OK?’
She didn’t even need to think about it. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m OK.’
Jack nodded. His eyes smiling. She realised how much calmer his face looked, too. All this lessening of tension was working wonders for their wrinkles.
Amy appeared at the gate. ‘What’s everyone doing now?’ she called, walking in Stella’s direction.
‘I don’t know.’ Stella shook her head, watching as Gus ambled a little slower behind Amy, eyes wary as he looked across at their dad.
‘Well, maybe we should all go back to the camp site?’ Amy said. ‘Dad, do you want to come back to our camp site? There’s a nice beach, and I think I saw something on a flyer about a full-moon party.’
Her dad looked dubious.
‘It’ll be fun.’ Amy trotted over to him adding in a whisper, ‘And you have to be nice to Gus, OK?’
Graham nodded, slightly bamboozled.
Moira was watching, hands on her hips.
He turned to her for clarification. ‘Would you be all right with that?’ he asked.
Moira shrugged. ‘Nothing to do with me. I have yoga anyway.’
‘Come on, Grandpa, you have to come!’ Sonny said, bashing him with his shoulder.
Graham put his hand on Sonny’s head. ‘OK then.’
Sonny whooped.
Amy linked arms with her dad. They started to walk together, closer to Gus who was standing with his hands in his pockets.
Graham looked him up and down. ‘So Gus, what is it that you do?’
Gus swallowed. ‘I, er, work for the Ministry of Defence.’
Amy frowned. ‘No you don’t, you said you work in computers.’
Gus said, ‘I work in computers for the Ministry of Defence.’
‘Do you now?’ Graham said, impressed.
‘You’re lying,’ Amy said. ‘What do you do for them?’
‘I’m not actually at liberty to say,’ Gus said, eyes starting to smile.
‘I always quite fancied the military myself,’ said Graham, ‘if the swimming hadn’t worked out.’
Moira laughed out loud. ‘Since when?’
Graham blustered a vague response, then marched on ahead firing questions at Gus to distract from Moira’s sniggers.
Amy hung back, falling into step with Stella and her mum.
‘Am I allowed to ask if you two made up?’ Moira asked.
‘Yes you are,’ Amy replied. ‘And yes we did, thank you.’
‘Good.’ Moira nodded.
Ahead of them Jack beeped the car open and the kids climbed in. ‘Do you want to sit in the back with us, Grandpa?’ Sonny asked.
‘No, I think I’ll take my car,’ he said, pointing to the snazzy red sports car parked in front of them. ‘Gus, would you like to drive with me?’
Amy nudged Stella with a grin, both of them holding in smiles as they watched Gus roll his shoulders and stammer slightly as he said, ‘Yes, absolutely, sir.’
‘You don’t have to call him sir,’ Amy called over.
‘He can call me sir if he likes,’ Graham said, beeping the locks of the flashy rental.
Gus looked back, a plea for rescue in his eyes.
Amy just waved. ‘Have fun.’
Stella shook her head. ‘You’re so mean.’
Moira watched a little worried. ‘I hope he’s OK.’
‘He’ll be fine,’ said Amy. ‘He’s the one always going on about how charming he is.’ Then she paused. ‘Stella, did you know that Mum doesn’t like any of her Emma Bridgewater china?’
‘No?’ Stella gasped.
Moira did a big sigh. ‘Oh, I knew this would come up again. I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I just—’
Amy giggled. ‘Mum, we don’t care if you don’t like it. We’re just winding you up. It’s only mugs! Just tell us next time.’ She fluffed up her hair with a grin. ‘Sorry about yesterday by the way. I know you’re a person and all that,’ she added before hopping in the car.
Stella stood next to her mum. ‘God, if only every apology was as easy as that.’
Moira laughed.
Her dad’s red sports car zoomed off.
‘He does love you, you know,’ her mum said.
Stella shrugged as if who knew.
‘He does.’ Her mum nodded, then she looked across at Stella. ‘You did very well today. What you said. I felt dreadful hearing it all but it needed to be said.’ She paused. Amy tapped on the window of the car to hurry them up. Moira said, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Stella.’
Stella swallowed. ‘I’m sorry for how often we cut you out.’
Moira looked surprised. ‘You didn’t—’ Then she paused, as if allowing herself to acknowledge that they did. ‘Well, it’s all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?’
Amy tapped on the window again.
Moira hesitated for a moment, then she reached across and squeezed Stella into a hug. Stella almost pulled back with shock but Moira was clutching her too tight, enveloping her in a cloud of red hair and Estée Lauder. ‘Oh, you were wonderful today. So wonderful,’ she said.
Amy was at the window all wide-eyed at the fact they were hugging.
Moira stepped back, holding Stella by the shoulders. ‘I almost jumped in the pool and held him back but I thought you might get cross that it wasn’t a fair race.’
Stella laughed.
‘It was all very dramatic wasn’t it? I think we did well.’
‘I think we did well, too.’ Stella nodded.
Her mum smiled, then she pulled open the car door and said, ‘Let’s get going. I could murder a G&T.’