‘I texted.’
Callie made a cushion of the pillows and slid back onto the bed. Reining in her exasperation she said, ‘You did. But I’ve been dying to know what it’s like. Is it hot? What’s the villa like? Have you been in the sea? What’s Leah been up to? Are you being sensible?’
Frida laughed. ‘Muuuuum!’
‘Well, what’s it like?’
‘Bit wild. I’ve left Leah to it most nights. I’m not keen on the nightlife.’
‘You left her on her own? You’ve been on your own?’ Callie couldn’t stop a note of concern creeping in.
‘Nah. Leah’s mate, Alice, whose parents own the villa, is really nice. I’ve hung out with her and some Dutch boys we met. Leah’s been out with Alice’s sister. They’re into clubbing more than Alice and me.’
Callie swallowed the information. It sounded as if Frida was being sensible. ‘And how’s the tan coming on?’
‘It’s well hot, Mum, I’ve been in the shade most of the time. Yesterday it was 41C, so we hung out by the pool. It was well lush. I’ve been reading loads.’
‘And you found your charger?’
‘What?’
‘You said that’s why you hadn’t rung or texted much.’
‘Oh yes.’
‘So it’s all working out okay then? You’re having a good time?’
‘Having a pretty good time.’
‘Drinking plenty of water, got enough money? Using sunscreen?’
Frida laughed again. ‘I’m not the one who goes lobster red in seconds.’
Frida had inherited her father’s cappuccino skin and lustrous black hair. ‘No, but you still need to protect your skin, kiddo. Or it’ll be wrinkle city by the time you get to my age.’
‘Understood. So, how’s your place? Nice?’
‘It’s lovely. Really lovely.’ Callie glanced at the blue sky scudding with cotton wool clouds glimpsed through her bedroom window. ‘The view is wonderful. Only–’
‘Only?’
‘I’m sharing the place.’
‘Noooo! How come?’
Callie settled back and filled her daughter in.
Through spluttering laughter Frida responded. ‘Sounds like you’ve landed on your feet there. Sounds like he’s a hottie.’
‘Thought you’d say that.’
‘Go for it, Mum. Silver fox and all.’
‘Thought you’d say that too.’ Callie heard someone knocking on the front door. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Keep in touch, you hear!’
‘Will do. Bye, Mum.’
Barefoot, Callie padded down the steep cottage stairs. A note pinned to the noticeboard said Johnny had gone for a run and would do the clearing up when he got back. She swung back the front door, hazily thinking he may have forgotten his key.
