In the pool there was nothing to think about but getting from one end to the other, arms scything through the water, my breathing carefully controlled the way I’d been taught by my swimming coach, Mr Mellor, all those years ago. He’d prided himself on spotting early potential and had been convinced I was an Olympic medallist in the making. The trouble was, I lacked a competitive streak. That particular personality trait had been passed straight from Dad to Bridget, who’d had enough for us both, while I took after Dad’s mum, a woman who’d firmly believed in putting off until tomorrow – or even next week – what you could do today.

‘Such a waste,’ Mr Mellor would say, shaking his grizzled head when I refused to enter some race or other, but I swam purely for pleasure, for the feeling of being truly myself, and I preferred swimming in the sea. In Vancouver, I’d ignored the pool at home during the long dry summers, and swum in the ocean nearly every day.

‘Shame you don’t apply that sort of dedication to getting a proper job,’ Bridget had groused on her first visit. She’d been busily pursuing her career in London by then, and hadn’t been remotely tempted to relocate to Canada with us. ‘You could be running your own corporation by now.’

After twenty quick lengths, I paused for breath, rubbing water from my stinging eyes. I knew chlorine was necessary in public pools, but hated its effects on my skin. The pool wasn’t busy, and I almost shot out of the water when a man’s voice said, ‘I’d have thought you’d had enough of swimming, after yesterday.’

My watery eyes travelled up a set of hairy shins and muscly thighs, over a pair of black swimming shorts, across a flat stomach, up a toned, tanned chest, and landed on Seth Donovan’s grinning face. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same thing.’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ I pushed back my dripping hair, glad my costume was the sensible, black one-piece with the racer-back that I kept in the car – until I remembered he’d already seen me naked. ‘I was swimming.’

‘So I gathered.’ I wondered how long he’d been watching me. ‘I didn’t realise it was you at first, you were going so fast it was hard to see your face.’

Hoisting myself up, I rested my elbows on the side, goosebumps rippling up my arms. ‘I like to push myself.’

‘Impressive.’ He dropped down, so he was sitting with his legs dangling in the water, hands gripping the sides, his thigh close to my elbow. ‘To be honest, I’m not a strong swimmer, and Jack isn’t either – as far as I know – so I thought I’d get him some refresher lessons as we’re going to be living by the sea.’

‘Better late than never,’ I quipped, not meaning to sound judgemental.

Seth’s mouth pursed. ‘I know, I should have thought of it sooner.’ His expression clouded. ‘I just didn’t think—’

‘Hey, I was kidding.’ I shot a hand out to his knee where it rested for a moment before I snatched it away. ‘Is he OK about it? I mean, after yesterday, he might not be too keen on being in the water again.’

‘I thought about that,’ he said, a touch defensively. ‘But I figured it was like getting back in the saddle when you’ve been thrown off the horse. If you don’t do it right away, you could end up with a phobia. Plus, unlike horse riding, being a good swimmer’s kind of essential for survival.’

He was giving me that meaningful look again, and keen to divert him from thanking me once more, I said, ‘Not worried about being spotted?’

His lips hitched into a smile. ‘I reckon I need to get over myself, and stop thinking I’m going to be mobbed.’ He glanced around the pool, which was empty apart from a pair of middle-aged women in full make-up with bone-dry hair, doing a sedate breaststroke side by side while chatting. ‘I shouldn’t think anyone here gives much of a sh— monkeys who I am.’

I returned his smile, and realised with a little shock that I was pleased to see him, even though we’d parted just hours ago. ‘Where is Jack?’ I said.

Seth’s face froze, as if he thought I suspected him of leaving Jack at the cottage. ‘He told me to wait out here, while he got changed.’ He looked over his shoulder towards the shower area. ‘Ah, here he is!’ He shot to his feet, rubbing his hands, his voice and smile pitched slightly too bright – like a children’s entertainer unsure of his audience’s mood.

‘Hi, Jack!’ I threw him a little wave as he approached. He looked vulnerable and undernourished in his drawstring swimming shorts, his skin so white it was almost translucent. ‘You OK?’

‘Say hi to Tilly,’ said Seth, ruffling the boy’s hair a bit too vigorously.

‘Hi,’ Jack said brightly, his gaze shyly ducking away from mine as he stepped to the edge of the pool, shivering slightly. He gazed at the water with a mix of anticipation and terror he was clearly trying to hide.

‘It’s shallow here, so you’ll be fine,’ said Seth, still in that unnaturally jolly voice. It struck me that he didn’t know how to be around his own child. Jack had been taken care of by someone other than the parent he was now with, and instead of Seth being himself, he was trying to be some fictional version of a ‘Dad’ – hearty and encouraging – and it wasn’t working. No doubt Jack sensed his dad was out of his depth, just as Romy, though younger, sensed Bridget trying too hard to be the perfect mum and played up to it.

Seth and my sister were going to get on like a house on fire, I realised. They already had tons in common.

As if making up his mind, Jack pinched his nostrils together, screwed his eyes shut and jumped, creating an almighty splash that made one of the women shriek and dive for the side, as if she’d spotted a shark.

Noting Seth lowering himself into the water, she nudged her friend, and the two of them began primping their hair and rearranging their cleavages. Meanwhile, Jack surfaced once, blew out water, then sank back down again.

‘Jack!’ Seth spun round, up to his waist in water, an expression of naked panic on his face. As he inhaled, preparing to dive down, I instinctively touched his shoulder.

‘Wait,’ I said.

‘What?’ He blinked at me in confusion.

‘He’ll come up in his own time.’ I spoke with a conviction I couldn’t explain. ‘He’s either trying to prove something, or provoke a reaction,’ I said. I remembered a boy of around the same age in a pool on holiday once, doing something similar in an attempt to win the approval of his dad; a strutting macho type in budgie smugglers, who’d talked to anyone who would listen about how he used to dive to sunken ships for a living, until his wife made him give it up.

‘Or, he could be lying at the bottom, about to be sucked into the drain, or have held his breath so long he’s lost consciousness, or… or…’ Seth was pawing the water, as if he could part it and see more clearly, when Jack burst upwards, gasping for air, shaking water from his hair as he treaded water.

‘See?’ I murmured, but my heart was pounding and I felt a little bit queasy. What if I’d been wrong? I shouldn’t be stopping Seth from doing what came naturally.

‘See?’ Jack echoed, though he couldn’t have heard me, lobbing the word in his dad’s direction. ‘I can hold my breath for ages underwater.’ The defiance was unmistakable and somehow moving. ‘I counted up to twenty.’

‘Well done, Jack, I’m proud of you.’ Seth looked pale beneath his tan as he walked towards Jack through the water, the muscles rippling in his back and shoulders. The two women were spellbound, as if watching an unexpectedly good movie – or an exceptionally good-looking, half-naked man they suspected might be famous. ‘Do you want me to race you?’ he said.

Jack’s face brightened momentarily, then, ‘Nah,’ he said. ‘You’ll let me win on purpose.’

‘No way.’ Seth flicked water at him, and I could tell he was trying his best to sound relaxed and cool. Jack shook his head, water dripping off his chin as he slid a look at me and away again.

‘I could show you how to do butterfly stroke, if you like,’ I offered.

He wrinkled his nose. ‘Isn’t that for girls?’

‘Not really.’ I was starting to shiver. I disliked being in water if I wasn’t moving – unless it was outside in the sunshine. ‘Men swim the butterfly at the Olympics.’

‘Maybe.’ He flipped over like a duck, legs wavering out of the water as he did a handstand. When he came back up, rubbing his eyes, hair flattened, the women applauded and a smile flickered over his face.

‘They’re advertising for an instructor, you should apply,’ Seth said to me, his eyes fixed on Jack. ‘I saw it when we came in. You’d be great at it.’

‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘It’s not a proper job though, is it?’

‘Who cares?’ He gave me a baffled look and, flustered, I dipped my face in the water to cool it down.

‘Look, Dad!’

When I raised my head, Jack was pointing at the winding blue flume that dropped into the leisure pool on the other side. ‘Can I have a go?’

‘We could go down together,’ Seth suggested.

‘I can go on my own.’ Jack levered himself out of the water.

‘Be careful!’ Seth called as Jack skittered across to the steps and began climbing the metal stairs without looking back.

‘What am I supposed to do with him?’ Seth spoke with such quiet despair I instantly wanted to rest a hand on his shoulder, his cheek – somewhere – and tell him things would be fine. But, the truth was, I had no idea whether they would be.

‘Just keep on being there,’ I said, pulling myself onto the side. ‘He probably needs to know you won’t leave him, like you’ve done in the past.’

I wondered for a moment whether I’d gone too far, but Seth was watching me retrieve my towel. He probably thought my default look was slightly blue and shivering. ‘Are you going?’ he said. ‘It would be nice to chat a bit longer.’ I sensed his unwillingness to be left alone with a son who appeared to reject him. ‘How did you learn to swim like that?’

I regarded him steadily. ‘Go and be with Jack,’ I said. ‘Don’t take no for an answer.’ I sounded like the opposite of Bridget’s Danish child-rearing guru, who’d probably advocate leaving Jack alone to explore his boundaries, or something. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Once more, I found myself walking away from Seth – even though part of me wanted to stay.

‘Why didn’t you?’ said Meg, that evening. I was phoning her from my room, while Bridget attempted to concoct something for dinner. She was a terrible cook, but it was part of her mission as a ‘proper mother’ to provide healthy nutritious meals for Romy, and if I was around I was expected to eat with them.

‘Too messy,’ I said. ‘You know I don’t do complicated.’

‘But we’re not talking about a relationship with the man—’

‘I know, I’m seeing Rufus,’ I said, wondering when he was going to call – and whether I should call him. What did people in ‘grown-up’ relationships do?

‘—just be his friend,’ Meg continued smoothly. ‘It sounds like he needs one, from what you’ve told me. And you’re a good friend, Tilly. Look how you’ve been there for Cassie and me this past year.’

‘Friends are different,’ I said. ‘I like having friends.’

‘Men can be friends, too.’

I thought about that for a moment. I’d had male friends in the past, but they’d ended up wanting more than friendship and that’s when things had got tricky. Still, if Seth found Bridget beautiful it meant I wasn’t his type, and I’d already told him I was seeing Rufus. His comment about me applying for the role of his girlfriend had been a throwaway one, and any subsequent interest was because I’d saved his son’s life – not because he was attracted to me.

‘Maybe,’ I said, hearing a ripping sound on the landing. I opened my door and saw Romy tearing pages out of a book and scattering them around her. She looked totally absorbed, her tongue poking out, and actually quite happy. ‘It’ll be a bit weird though, if I’m going to be working for him, and he’s seeing my sister.’

‘He’s agreed to go on a date, that’s all.’

‘Yes, but once he’s met her, he’ll want to take things further,’ I said. ‘I actually think they’ll be good for each other.’

‘Have you told her yet?’

‘No.’ I felt an odd little dip in my stomach. ‘I’m saving it for when I can’t eat her dinner, so she won’t smash my plate over my head.’

‘She wouldn’t do that?’ Meg sounded deliciously appalled.

‘Like I said, you—’

‘—don’t know my sister,’ we chorused.

Meg laughed, then said, ‘Oh, Cassie texted earlier and said there’s a new problem with the floor at the café.’

‘Not this again.’ I made a huffy sound. ‘Does everyone in south Devon know there’s a problem with the floor?’ Meg’s laugh sounded slightly forced, and I remembered Cassie’s other news. ‘Is that all she said?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She didn’t tell you anything else?’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know.’ So, Cassie really was keeping mum. Keeping mum. I almost chuckled at my private joke. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The floorboards were wrong, but I’ve ordered some more.’

‘And the room will be finished in time for the party on Christmas Eve?’

I frowned. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Oh, Tilly, I’ve had an amazing idea.’

Feeling I might need to sit down, I dropped on my bed, catching sight of myself in the mirror on my dressing table. My hair looked flat and lifeless, and my face was raw from the chlorine-water at the pool. ‘Go on.’

‘You know my dad has asked my mum to marry him?’

An involuntary smile travelled over my face. Meg had grown up thinking her father was dead, not alive and well and living in Ireland, completely unaware he had a daughter – until Meg appeared on a television show in the summer and he tracked down her mother, Rose. It was a proper love story, and even I’d been enchanted. ‘I do,’ I said, and allowed myself a smug smile. ‘Have they set a date?’

‘No, because you know Mum’s not good at going out, and the thought of even getting married in a register office brings her out in a panic.’

‘Y-e-e-e-s,’ I said. ‘Get to the point, Meg, or I’ll be grey by the time you’ve finished.’

‘Well, Dad and I have managed to persuade her to come to the Christmas Eve party, and see the new function room, and because she feels comfortable at the café, because it’s familiar, I thought… wouldn’t it be brilliant if they got married there?’

‘What?’

There was the sound of running feet across the landing, and Romy shouting, ‘GHOST!’

‘What do you mean, married?’

‘I mean, a friend of Nathan’s brother got ordained so he could officiate at his wedding, and he’s said he’d love to marry them. Mum and Dad, I mean. And I know Cassie’s parents applied for a license—’

‘The council has to approve fire and safety provisions, first.’

‘Which they will?’

‘Well… yes, as long as it’s finished in time. Plus, Dad knows everyone in the planning department, so it’ll be fine.’

‘And it will be finished in time?’

‘Of… of course.’ How could I say anything else?

‘Dad’s in on it, obviously,’ Meg rushed on, and I heard in the warmth of her tone how much she loved saying Dad. ‘He’s organised the rings and everything, and invited his family over, so everyone they care about will be there.’

‘Wow, that’s quite a plan.’ I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or worried. Hopefully, Rose wouldn’t twig what was happening and run.

‘So, it will be ready on time?’

I looked at myself in the mirror. ‘It will be ready on time,’ I said, with my most solemn expression. ‘I promise.’