I have a clear memory of Mum and I watching the sunset a month or so before she died—around the time she wrote Wilf the letter I’ve just read. I remember her saying that if she ever had to go away it wouldn’t mean she didn’t love me, that she’d never stop loving me. That’s why I’d always thought she must have taken her own life: I thought she must have been trying to prepare me. She knew I was gay and was so repulsed by it, she couldn’t bear to be near me, she couldn’t bear to go on living. As everyone at school called me a dirty queer and everyone acted as if being gay was the worst thing ever, that seemed to me to make perfect sense.
At my side, Theo lets out a relaxed, contented sigh. “Right, let’s think of all the things we did well today and all the things we want to do better tomorrow.”
“I liked playing with Spaghetti!” cheeps Archie, sitting on my other side. “And on my swing!”
Theo grins. “Superb, squirt. But people don’t have to tell us if they prefer to keep it to themselves.”
We all fall silent and gaze out at the sunset. But I become fixated on what I realize is its imperfection. If I could just shift the sun over to the right, it’d be hovering directly above the sea—in the center of the V made by the mountains—its reflection on the waves forming a perfect straight line, until it disappears behind the horizon.
“Now, aren’t we lucky to be doing this together?” says Theo, softly. “Not everyone gets to say goodbye to the day with the people they care most about.”
Like a body blow, I realize just how much I miss my mum. All of a sudden, I start crying.
“Sorry, Adam,” says Callum.
I knuckle the tears out of my eyes but they keep falling. “‘Sorry’? What for?”
“For being so hard on you,” he says. “When we first got here.”
“Oh.” I’m taken by surprise.
“I’m sorry, too,” says Mabel. “I wasn’t very nice, either.”
“That’s OK,” I manage. “Although apologies accepted. Thank you.”
Archie shuffles closer to me and takes hold of my hand.
“We want to make up for it,” Callum announces. “Me and Mabel wondered how you’d feel about us doing your digital marketing.”
“For this place,” clarifies Mabel. “Callum could do the website and I could do the social media.”
“We’ll do a mint job, I promise,” says Callum.
The two of them look at me, eagerly.
I sniff back my tears. “I’m sure you would.”
“So what do you say?” chips in Theo. “Is that a yes?”
I force out a smile. “Yes, brill. And thank you. That’s really exciting.”
Archie squeezes my hand. “If you like, we can play Top Trumps tomorrow. Dad’s got me a new pack in Italian. ‘AwesomeAnimali’!”
I no longer have to force myself to smile. “You’re on.” I let out a breath. “Guys, I’m sorry I got emotional.”
“Don’t apologize,” insists Theo.
“I was just having a moment,” I go on. “But it’s lovely to be here. And you’re right: we are lucky to be doing this together.”
I squeeze Archie’s little hand and realize this hasn’t made me feel worse at all. It’s made me feel much better. Even if the sunset is imperfect.
I notice Archie’s glasses are dirty. I let go of his hand, lift them off his nose, and clean them on my T-shirt. And I hold them up to inspect the lenses in the light of the setting sun.
Chapter 32
The next day, Theo is out of action to prepare for his school’s A level results, which won’t be released to students till tomorrow but the teachers find out today. He’d originally intended to fly back to Manchester, before our plans changed and the kids joined us. He feels bad about not being there but hasn’t missed a results day in nearly ten years; plus, he has a supportive deputy head who’s already been away so has offered to step in. But he still needs to be online and on the phone, which means I’m on childcare duty and won’t be able to sneak off and read Mum’s second letter. Part of me is relieved.
I take the kids to see Angelika, who’s invited us to spend another day by her pool—and to meet her granddaughters, who’ve arrived for their delayed summer holiday. As we troop through the gates, she’s standing waiting for us, wearing a tiger-print kaftan and gold jewelry that glints in the sun. On either side of her is a fine-featured, pretty, slim, blond girl. Angelika introduces one as Lina, who’s sixteen, and the other as Freya, who’s fourteen. Thankfully, they both speak excellent English.
