Theo takes a detour down the sweet aisle, where he tells the kids they can each pick a treat for the car. Archie goes for his usual chocolate buttons and Mabel asks for a bar of white chocolate. I’m about to remind her she doesn’t like that anymore when she volunteers, “I know I said I’d gone off it but I like it again now.”
Theo and I try not to smirk.
“And I know I said these were too hard for my brace but I was basically talking crap,” says Callum, picking up a protein bar.
Am I imagining this or do Callum and Mabel turn away so we can’t see them smiling?
Once we’re back at the house, we hang the hammocks, which are instantly claimed by Callum and Mabel. Archie feels left out but, as he’s only interested in the hammocks for swinging, Theo has the idea of building him a rope swing. He remembers seeing a thick length of rope in the wine store and retrieves it, along with as many tools as he can find. The five of us spend the next two hours creating and erecting a swing from the thick branch of a tree that hangs over a slope. We saw, sand, drill, measure and tie, with Theo acting as foreman. Once the swing’s ready, Theo and I insist on testing it out before any of the kids go on it, then we sit one on top of the other to really test its ability to carry weight. Mabel takes more photos and we all laugh loudly. I’d never imagined DIY could be so much fun. If only Dad could see me now.
Then another voice in my head says, Dadcouldsee you now—if you’d let him.
I clap my hands together. “Right, who fancies a pizza?”
Theo fires up the pizza oven while the kids and I sprinkle our ready-made bases with our chosen toppings, then slide them in.
As we sit on the patio eating, congratulating ourselves on our taste combinations, Archie spots two lizards sitting on the doorstep. We recognize them as the ones that live in the larder. But this time Mabel doesn’t scream and Callum doesn’t attack them. We just sit eating, watching them. And they sit watching us.
Theo finishes his pizza and gently dusts the flour from his hands.“Gang, I think we should come up with some names for these guys.”
“Len,” suggests Callum.
“Liz,” says Mabel. “Liz the Lizard!”
“Lionel!” quips Archie, his mouth smeared in so much tomato he looks like a clown. “After Lionel Messi!”
“All outstanding ideas,” judges Theo. Like a punch to the gut, I suddenly feel the force of his good looks—enhanced by his sharp, neat haircut. Something stirs inside me.
“Actually, not Liz,” Mabel corrects herself. “I don’t think they’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Brother and sister!” yelps Archie, cramming the remains of his pizza into his mouth.
Mabel shakes her head, firmly. “I think they’re two boys.”
“Best friends!” says Archie, spraying tomato all over the table.
Mabel puts her pizza down. “I think they’re boyfriends.”
“Like Dad and Dadam!” chirps Archie.
I wince.
But this time Mabel doesn’t correct him.
In the evening, Mabel gives me my skincare tutorial, while Archie is in bed and Theo is speaking to Callum about his back and shoulder hair—laying out options he may or may not want to follow.
I have to admit, Mabel’s skincare advice is incredibly useful, although I do feel sheepish to be learning some of the basic principles from a thirteen-year-old, a week before I reach the age of forty-six. She ends with the instruction to store all my products in the fridge and I hope there’ll be space in our new model when we’re back in the kitchen.
Once Mabel’s gone to bed, I have a shower. As I’m drying myself off, I become aware of Theo standing in the doorframe. He moves over to me and I sense an edge to his energy. He takes his shirt off, throwing it on the floor, and kicks away his sliders. He clasps his hands around my neck and pulls me closer.
He kisses me full on the mouth, his breath hot and quick. He tastes salty, like the sea. I run my nose up his cheek and breathe in his musk, the smoke of the pizza oven, the scent of the country.
“Mio tesoro,”he whispers in my ear.
I smile.“Mio carissimo,”I say into his mouth.
I let my towel fall to the floor so I’m naked. He lifts me up with his powerful arms and I feel them tensing at my sides. I wrap my legs around him, feeling the tickle of the hairs on his stomach. He kisses me hungrily, feverishly, and carries me through to the bedroom, as if I hardly weigh anything.
He lowers me onto the bed and tugs off his shorts, throwing them onto the floor. He’s hard, huge. I move my mouth down to pleasure him, guiding him in and out, savoring his taste, his size, his readiness. He lets out a moan and buries his fingers in my hair. Then he pulls back and lets himself out of my mouth.
