She personally feels as if she’s on a rollercoaster but there’s no getting off.
Rose turns back to Dianne. ‘How do you get on with your children, Dianne?’ she asks.
Dianne shoots her a poisonous look and both Grazia and Bernard, who notice it, are startled.
‘Fine,’ snaps Dianne.
‘They made you come here, isn’t that right?’
‘Kids know nothing,’ Dianne replies harshly. ‘They grow up and then think you’re an old person who knows nothing. How dare they!’
‘So you’re angry with them?’ Rose asks gently.
There’s a tiny chink in Dianne’s armour; Rose feels herself slipping in.
Dianne’s nostrils flare with anger.
‘I am here because they wanted me to come but I should be at home,’ she says icily. ‘My daughter’s expecting a baby; it’s due soon. Why the hell am I here on this bloody island when I should be with her?’
‘Why do you think you’re here?’ Rose asks.
‘Because I got angry with a stupid man and his stupid car. That’s all. I’m not mad.’
The terrace is quiet apart from the distant noise of the sea and the buzzing of insects in the warm morning air.
‘Nobody here is mad,’ Rose says easily.
‘Hebloody well is!’ shoots back Dianne, pointing at Dan. ‘He’s a controlling bastard. It’s written all over him. Onlyhecan look after his girlfriend, she’s nothing without him. That’s what controlling people say.’
‘How dare you!’ explodes Dan, getting to his feet. ‘I have never tried to control her in my life! I’ve never thought Julia’s nothing without me. I adore her and you know nothing—’
‘I know more than you think!’ yells Dianne, also standing.
‘Please sit down,’ says Rose in a calm yet very stern voice.
Dianne flushes but sits.
Dan follows suit, his hands balled up into fists.
‘We’re not here to attack other people, Dianne,’ says Rose.
‘Do you want to throw me off the retreat?’ says Dianne, a hint of hope on her face.
‘No, nobody gets thrown off yet,’ says Rose, sounding steely. ‘You have to stay.’
She pauses for a moment, lets a silence settle, then turns deliberately.
‘Bernard? You have a son and a daughter, I think?’ Rose asks, smoothly changing tack.
‘Yes!’ Bernard answers eagerly.
It appears that he’s dying to talk, which Rose finds remarkable. Bernard has looked as if he’s barely tolerating things up to now. Plus he wanted to go out on a boat today. But for some reason, he’s turned into Mr Chatty.
‘Stephen’s the eldest, very clever chap, not one but two degrees in business. Smarter than me, no doubt about it. Decent too. Lovely wife and a very nice house in Wiltshire, I have to tell you. Three grandkids, all marvellous, marvellous …’ His voice trails off a little.
Rose feels she might have heard enough about Bernard’s son.
‘Your daughter?’ she says gently.
