He reached for his mother’s hand, felt her clawing at his. Jess gripped his other arm. Alex chewed his lip, his eyes shifting between the white-coated vet and Tosca. Surely, he’d got her here in time. He felt a rush of love, for the dog, for his mother ... and, he realized, for his new girlfriend.
When they got back to the Villa, Jess dragged Alex out for a walk. It was a hot day, and they kept to the shady side of the road. He was becoming quite fond of this country, and he loved sharing it with Jess.
‘Shall we change our flights and stay a few more days?’ he suggested, taking her hand.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t, Alex. I’ve got a year-end coming up, and the client’s relying on me to finish his accounts.’
‘Ask someone else to cover?’
She dropped his hand. ‘That’s not right. I wouldn’t do that to him. He deserves a proper service.’ She turned the pressure on him, asking how his plans for a summer job were progressing.
He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Sorted. I’m giving surfing lessons on Woolacombe beach.’
The inflatable mattress butted against the edge of the pool. Alex stretched out a foot and kicked, propelling his body away. He relaxed, letting his hands dangle in the cool water, the early afternoon sun burning his skin. His girlfriend was inside, lying down in the air-conditioned bedroom.
He heard his mother call out, ‘Just collected Tosca. No lasting damage, but I want to keep her inside today. Have you got sunscreen on, Alex? You’re not in Devon.’
Alex used his fingers to steer himself round so the sun wasn’t in his face. ‘Mum?’ he hollered.
‘Alex,’ came the answering call.
‘Can I stay in Ovington Square if I want to get away from Devon for a few days?’ There was no response. He cupped his hands, scooping up water and dribbling it onto his hot chest. ‘Mum, is that a problem?’ If his father wasn’t staying there, why would there be a problem if he went to London? Alex sat up, dangling his legs in the water. The ends of the float shot up either side of him, encasing him in plastic. He pushed down the front end. His mother was standing at the side of the pool, wringing her hands together. She wasn’t looking at him.
‘Don’t make any plans,’ she said. ‘You must check with me first. It might be possible. I just don’t know yet.’ She turned and walked off.
What did she mean by that? He paddled to the side, jumped off the float, and waded up the steps. Wrapping a towel round his waist, Alex dripped his way up and into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, grabbed two beers, then rummaged around and found cheese, bread, and a jar of olives. He pulled opencupboards, tossing crisps, nuts, and biscuits onto the pile, then loaded his picnic onto a tray. He heard a throat being noisily cleared behind him.
‘Lunch not sufficient for you?’ asked his father sarcastically.
‘Fancied a snack,’ Alex mumbled.
‘I ate less than that for lunch, and I don’tfancy a snack.I don’t have time for a snack,’ his father’s voice rose. ‘I have work to do! Work that pays for all the food you eat.’
‘What’s going on in here?’ demanded Emily, elbowing her way past Mark, her eyes glued to the towering tray of food. ‘Mark, I thought you were on your way to the post office. Alex, put that cheese back, I need it for sandwiches.’
Alex glowered at each parent in turn, shoved the tray aside, and picked up the two beers. ‘This is worse than being at boarding school. I can’t wait to spend time with a normal family.’ He marched down the stairs and flopped onto a chair in the shade. After downing the first beer, he opened the second bottle. He heard footsteps, then the clitter clatter of dog’s paws on tiles.
‘Alex,’ said his mother gently.
He took a swig of beer. ‘Yeah?’ He didn’t look at her.
‘What did you mean by that? A normal family?’
He rubbed the bottle along his forehead, enjoying the kiss of cold glass. ‘Didn’t mean to offend you. Do you think he stalks me? Does he get a kick out of criticizing me all the time?’
She sat down next to him, placed a hand on his arm. ‘He’s not finding life easy just now. Cut him some slack.’
Alex raised his eyes to his mother. ‘Any chance of a loan?’
‘Alex,’ she said in a tone she usually reserved for the dogs when they did something naughty. ‘This has to stop.’
He squeezed his eyes tight. ‘One last time. Please, you’ve no idea what it’s like to be short of money.’
Mark glowered at his silent phone. Why was Pedro always so difficult to get hold of? The receptionist had promised the lawyerwould return Mark’s call in twenty minutes, but that was over an hour ago. Mark gritted his teeth as an outburst of screeching echoed through his study; it sounded like a seagull was circling the pool. There was a loud whoop followed by a crashing noise, then more squealing. A dog started yapping. Mark held his palms flat against his ears. It was no better; he pulled them away, wondering which was worse, paying guests or family. The door slid open behind him with a whoosh.
‘Yes?’ he snapped.
‘Tosca’s going to be fine.’
