Charlie nods. The look Esther gives him tells him she understands. She never probes for details. She just lets himbe.
He smiles, aware of a warm glow inside him as he and Remy message back and forth for a few minutes. The sun has come out now and he and Esther tug off their sweaters. Charlie is wearing a T-shirt under his; Esther a ribbed vest. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ he says.
‘What?’ She grins, looking thrilled at whatever it is he’s going to suggest. He loves that about her; that she gets so excited about stuff, like a little kid.
‘How much food have we got with us?’ he asks.
‘I’ve got some crisps, maybe half a sandwich left …’ She starts burrowing into her bag and produces half a clingfilm-wrapped sandwich, squashed flat, plus a bag of Quavers and about a third of a bar of chocolate. ‘Why?’
In Charlie’s own rucksack he finds a slightly bashed KitKat, a packet of Hula Hoops and a banana. ‘I was thinking we could stay here until it’s dark,’ he says.
She gives him a quizzical look. ‘Okay. Why not?’ She looks down at the food they’ve laid out on the silvery sand. ‘There’s enough to keep us going, I think.’
‘Yeah, definitely.’ They fall into a comfortable silence again until she asks, ‘So, how’s Remy?’
‘He’s doing good,’ Charlie says, trying to look neutral but unable to stop the smile spreading across his face.
They sit for ages then, watching the sea, the birds and the occasional seal popping its dark head above the water. The sky turns deep blue, then streaks with pink and gold. They chat about the dig, and the new friends they’ve made, as it darkens some more until eventually it’s full of stars. The sliver of moon glows brightly.
‘It’s nice he was thinking about you,’ Esther says.
Charlie nods.
‘He might even be looking at the moon too,’ she adds.
‘Yeah, he might be.’ That’s so weird, Charlie thinks, because that’s what he was thinking too. He thinks Esther knows this because she puts an arm around his shoulders and they sit there together, looking up at the glinting stars.
‘I’m glad Mum met your dad,’ Charlie says.
‘I’m glad Dad met your mum.’ They laugh and she leans her head against him. Without thinking, Charlie reaches for a tiny shell. He examines it for a moment, then slips it into his jeans pocket, like he did when he was little. All those beach finds he presented to his mum.
‘Are you keeping that?’ Esther asks.
‘Yeah.’
‘For a souvenir?’ she says.
He nods. ‘Kind of.’
They sit in silence for a while watching the waves swish against the sandy shore. ‘I wish I’d known you when I was younger,’ Esther says suddenly. ‘What kind of adolescent were you?’
Charlie laughs, surprised by her question. But then she’s always surprising him. ‘I was still close to Mum then. We’d go to the cinema, have pizza – that kind of stuff.’
‘Cinema and pizza with your mum? What kind of behaviour is that?’ she teases.
‘I know. We were really close,’ he says, laughing at her reaction.
‘No moody sulks or slamming doors?’
Charlie grins and shakes his head. ‘Not that I can remember. I was a terrible adolescent! What about you?’
‘Oh, I was a really good one,’ Esther says. ‘My parents broke up around then so I could use it as an excuse to be an absolute horror.’
He looks at her, wondering how to broach this. ‘Did it affect you, d’you think? Them breaking up, I mean?’
‘Maybe. I’m not sure. I think a lot of it was just in me, to be honest. But last year I had a therapist, a woman called Chrissie I used to see.’
‘You don’t see her anymore?’ Charlie asks.
