‘The beach,’ Alvin shouted, scrambling to his knees, obviously bursting with the need to be first on the topic. ‘We went to the beach, and it rained stones.’
Astrid laughed. ‘They were hailstones,’ she clarified. ‘And they hurt. Ezz was there with Barnaby – we looked at his fish, but it wasn’t reallyhisfish, because it came from the sea – so we all ran into her house. No,’ she corrected herself, ‘her sister’s house. It’s very dirty and doesn’t have anything in it.’
Inger laughed, white teeth flashing. ‘That’s a strange house.’
‘Barnaby’s mother, Valentina, has bought a cottage to do up,’ Mats put in. ‘It’s not at its best.’ And he wished like hell that he hadn’t visited it, because then he couldn’t have blabbed Ezz’s secret to her sister and ballsed things up.
Inger didn’t show much interest in the property. Probably ‘cottage’ didn’t sound grand enough. ‘So, how old is Barnaby? Is he a new friend?’
The children agreed that he was, and Mats interpolated, ‘He’s about Astrid’s age.’
‘And if Valentina’s Barnaby’s mummy, who is Ezz?’ Inger shifted in her seat, and the backdrop became the quay of a marina briefly, then settled back to being a cloudless blue sky.
Astrid looked at Mats for guidance. Ezz was just Ezz, he guessed, so far as Astrid was concerned. He supplied, ‘She’s the manager at the hall. You probably met her when she was assistant manager. Barnaby’s her nephew. They were playing on the beach at the same time we were, and then the hailstorm began, so we all sheltered for a few minutes.’ To turn the subject as he wasn’t particularly mad on discussing with his ex-wife the woman he’d just slept with, he asked, ‘Still in Tunisia?’
‘We turned north, so we’re in Sardinia now.’ Inger waved an airy hand at scenery they couldn’t see. ‘Then it’s Corsica and Monaco. Andreas has friends in Monte Carlo, and they’ve invited us to their villa. They own a lovely restaurant where the Formula One drivers go. Monaco’s filled with rich people because it’s a tax haven.’ Inger sounded very used to Andreas’ privileged way of life now.
Alvin jumped back into the conversation. ‘We saw the ponies today. One’s a donkey.’
Mats didn’t bother pointing out the difference between ponies and donkeys, but let the children chatter about the sea, ponies, donkeys, gulls, fish, the hall, the village, the snow-topped mountains and the wintry weather.
He listened idly, an arm around each child, thinking that luxurious as Inger’s surroundings appeared, he was happier squashed up on a couple of pillows with the two most amazing little people on the planet.
He was even happier when they reached the conclusion of the call without Inger once again mentioning him bringing the kids for Christmas.
