Molly thought long and hard. She stroked Hector’s ears, then sighed.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’d like Alfie to meet his grandparents. Very much.’
Bruno walked up the path to his parents’ bungalow with his heart in his mouth. How on earth was he going to break the news? Joanie was incredibly fragile emotionally. Would she be able to cope with the shock?
He walked into the kitchen without knocking. She was standing at the sink, still in her dressing gown.
‘Mum?’
‘Bruno, love . . .’ Her face was wan. She managed a fleeting smile. Then she frowned. ‘Is something the matter?’
He could see the anxiety in her face and he rushed forward to reassure her.
‘No, Mum. There’s nothing the matter. But I have got some news. You’d better sit down first.’
He pulled out a kitchen chair. She sat, looking flustered.
‘What? What is it?’
He sat down next to her and picked up one of her hands.
‘Listen carefully. I don’t know exactly how to tell you this, it’s all a bit complicated. But . . . Joe was seeing someone, just before he died.’
Joanie nodded.
‘Tamara . . .’
‘Not just Tamara. There was another girl. Her name’s Molly. She worked on the campsite.’
Joanie’s face clouded as she tried to put a face to the name. She shook her head.
‘I don’t remember . . .’
‘It doesn’t matter. She was Joe’s . . . I don’t know what the word is. They were having an affair, anyway. And Molly got pregnant.’
Joanie was staring at him with a bewildered expression, not knowing what the punchline was going to be. Bruno rushed to get the words out as quickly as he could.
‘Mum, Molly found out she was having Joe’s baby, not long after he died. She had a little boy. Alfie.’ Bruno swallowed hard, realizing that he had tears in his eyes. ‘He’s your grandson, Mum. You’ve got a little grandson.’
Joanie closed her eyes. She seemed to sway slightly with the shock. She gripped Bruno’s fingers in hers.
‘Where is he?’ she whispered.
‘Molly and Alfie are at my house. I only found out the whole story today. Molly was frightened to come to us. She was frightened . . . we might think she was lying. That she was after money.’
Joanie released her grip. Her hands were shaking. She took in a few deep breaths.
‘Can I see him?’
Bruno nodded.
‘Of course you can.’
For a moment, Joanie didn’t move.
‘Does he look like Joe?’ she whispered.
Bruno considered his answer carefully.
‘A little bit. He’s got Joe’s eyebrows, I think. And his mouth.’
Joanie buried her face in her hands, completely overwhelmed. Bruno took her in his arms.
‘Give yourself a few minutes. To get used to the idea. Then go and get yourself dressed. I’ll drive you over. You can see him for yourself . . .’
M
imi was amazed. When she’d left Bath, none of her friends had turned a hair. But she’d only been in Mariscombe a matter of weeks and her mates were throwing her a farewell party that afternoon. They’d brought crates of beer down to the beach, rigged up a sound system and cooked sausages and burgers on a fire that Matt had built.
All of which made the fact that they were leaving the next day so much harder to bear. Mimi was dreading going back to Bath, dreading even more having to live with her grandparents, whose motives she mistrusted. It was all very well them welcoming her with open arms now, when she was virtually old enough to leave home. Mimi was as old as her mother had been when she had her. Talk about shutting the barn door after the horse had bolted.
As much as both she and Victoria had loved Mariscombe, on a practical level there was nothing there for them. And Mimi was keenly aware that Victoria probably wanted to put as much distance between herself and George as possible. Mimi realized now that you couldn’t force two people who didn’t belong with each other together.
Like her and Matt? Picking up a bottle of Smirnoff Ice, she looked over at him changing the music. She knew it was him who’d arranged all this for her; he’d put the word round, collected money for a kitty to buy food and booze. So he must care about her. But she still didn’t know exactly where she stood. They’d been as thick as thieves, out together every night. He didn’t go out with anyone else. They ate together, drank together, danced together. But that was it. It was like having a very best friend.
Mimi wanted more.
‘Come for a walk with me.’ She put her head to one side coquettishly and smiled up at him. She realized she was a little bit drunker than she’d thought – not quite slurring her words, but everything in her head was slightly fuzzy. Though actually, it helped.
They walked down the beach. Mimi slid her arm through Matt’s, feeling a little bit unsteady on her feet as she drew him round past the rocks, round the corner to a sheltered spot where they were out of sight. Feeling braver, she pulled him towards her, then slid her arm around the back of his neck and kissed him.
His response told her everything she needed to know. He kissed her back fiercely, entwining his hands in her hair. She slid hers under his T-shirt, exploring his skin. They fell on to the damp sand, oblivious to anything but their passion.
‘Make love to me, Matt,’ she said softly.
He pushed her hair back from her eyes and gazed into them.
‘I can’t, Mimi,’ he sighed. ‘Not if you’re leaving. It wouldn’t be right. You’d only regret it.’
‘I wouldn’t.’ She pressed herself against him.
‘Mimi, you’re drunk. I’m drunk.’ He stroked her hair. ‘Let’s wait. Wait until we both know what we’re going to do with our lives.’
She fell back on to the sand, deflated.
‘You don’t fancy me.’
‘Are you kidding?’ He stroked her cheek. ‘You’ve no idea how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you. But I always knew I only had you on borrowed time. I didn’t want to start something we couldn’t finish.’
Mimi blinked away a tear.
‘It’s not fair. I don’t want to go.’
‘I know. I don’t want you to go. But maybe—’
She sat up, filled with hope.
‘Maybe what?’
‘Maybe you can come back and visit.’ Matt wasn’t going to make her any promises. He’d been through it all so many times before. Holiday romances. Vows to return. Passionate encounters that seemed so intense in the sunshine but faded away after a couple of weeks’ half-hearted texting. His reluctance was as much to protect himself as it was Mimi. That was the price you paid for living in Mariscombe. A temporary paradise.
‘Come on,’ he coaxed her. ‘The food should be cooked by now. Let’s go and get something to eat.’
He took her hand and they walked back round the rocks, where the barbecue was pronounced ready. Sausages and jacket potatoes and corn on the cob were handed round. Mimi didn’t want food, however. In her misery, she downed three Smirnoff Ices in quick succession and had more than her fair share of a fat spliff that was being passed around.
Feeling slightly anaesthetized, she wandered down to the water’s edge. The tide was on its way in and had nearly reached a big inflatable crocodile that one of the group had abandoned. Mimi pushed it into the water, wading out until she was past the line of waves that fringed the shore. When she was up to her waist, she clambered in. She lay back, sculling the water gently with her hands, looking up at the sky. It had been a glorious afternoon and the sun was just starting to edge down between the two clusters of rocks that stood guard either side of the inlet.
She stopped sculling and closed her eyes. As the sun slipped further, it started getting cold, and she was wet, but she didn’t mind. Out here there was nothing to think about, just the sea below her and the sky above. Her head was spinning slightly. Her mind felt numb at the edges, her limbs heavy. The crocodile bobbed up and down in the water. She felt like a baby being rocked to sleep in its cradle.
Dimly, she noticed that she was drifting out past the rocks and into the open sea. But she didn’t worry. She was safe in her little boat. She could paddle back in when she wanted. A dark cloud passed over the sinking sun. A raindrop fell and landed on her stomach. Then another.
So what if it rained? She was wet already. Besides, rain suited her mood. Perhaps she’d changed the weather with her gloomy thoughts?
An unexpectedly large wave caught the underside of the crocodile, nearly tipping her up. Mimi sat up in alarm. Maybe she’d go back into shore now. The sky that had been blue all afternoon was now a steely, unforgiving grey, and she could see a line of driving rain advancing in. She started to paddle with her hands but the crocodile drifted determinedly in the opposite direction, as if it knew better. Another wave blew in and this time she was tipped out.
She bobbed to the surface, spluttering, and grabbed the plastic handle on the edge of the inflatable. But it was too large and unwieldy for her to turn it over while she was treading water. She tried to hook her arms over the edge, but she kept slipping off. The waves were getting bigger. The sky was getting darker. The rain was getting heavier. Mimi clung on to the plastic handle and started to swim for the shore. It seemed an awfully long way off all of a sudden. And somehow it seemed to be getting further and further away.
Matt was throwing wet sand over the last of the barbecue to damp out the coals, even though rain was starting to fall. He looked round for Mimi, thinking he’d walk her back home. He couldn’t spot her anywhere. Maybe she’d gone off in a sulk. He didn’t think that was her style, but you didn’t know with girls. They could be incredibly touchy.
‘Any of you guys seen Mimi?’ he asked the others.
‘Didn’t she go out on the croc?’
Matt hastily ran down to the shore, scanning the water for signs of the crocodile. By now the rain was coming in thick and fast. He couldn’t see out past the rocks. The waves had got up. They were over five foot, easily. No one in their right mind would be out in the sea now.
If the crocodile was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Mimi, then there was only one conclusion to come to. Matt ran back up to the others, trying not to panic, trying to work out how long it was since he’d seen her.
‘Has anyone got a signal down on this beach? I need to call the coastguard.’
Half an hour later, a thick mist was closing in fast. The rain was coming in horizontally, fine but determined. As the rocks on the horizon vanished from view, Victoria whimpered and George drew her in close to him, wishing fervently that he had enough conviction to reassure her. But as he looked vainly out to sea, he felt any hope he had evaporating. Mimi could be anywhere on her inflatable crocodile – if indeed she was still on it. A wave could have turned her over and would she have had the strength to retrieve her life raft? Or was she even now desperately treading water?
He looked behind him and could see gaggles of people gradually turning out on to the esplanade as word got round. The kids Mimi had been hanging out with were loitering at the far end, pale with uncertainty, smoking furiously. One of them had run up to the hotel to tell them what was happening, and for that he was thankful, even though he felt quite helpless.
George noticed that Lisa was nowhere to be seen, that she had discreetly slipped away, and he was grateful to her for her sensitivity. She knew that Victoria needed him and she wasn’t going to object. Lisa, he thought with a wave of shame, was too good for all of them.
The coastguard helicopter arrived, an incongruously cheerful bright yellow. It swooped overhead, cruising over the shoreline, then disappeared between the cliffs, heading purposefully out to sea. George felt reassured. They knew what they were doing. They did this kind of thing every day of the week . . .
They found Mimi, exhausted and nearly unconscious, still clinging to the crocodile. They flew her straight to the hospital outside Bamford. George drove Victoria there in Lisa’s car, where they found Mimi in A&E, wrapped in a foil blanket and on a drip.
‘I’m sorry, Mum.’
Her little face was drained of any colour. Victoria bent down to kiss her. Her skin felt incredibly cold.
‘You silly girl . . .’
George watched as the two of them hugged each other tightly. His stomach was still churning with anxiety. How easily this could have turned into a tragedy. A fact that was underlined to them by the doctor, who came into the little cubicle with a grave face.
‘She’s had a very lucky escape. The combination of alcohol and cold water is deadly. If she’d fallen unconscious, she wouldn’t have had a hope. Not in those waves.’
‘But she will be OK?’ Victoria looked up anxiously.
‘Yes,’ the doctor reassured her. ‘But I want to keep her in tonight, just for observation. She was bordering on hypothermia.’
‘Can I stay?’
The doctor shrugged.
‘If you want. But there’s no real need. I suggest you go home and come back for her first thing in the morning. Obviously we’ll call you if there are any complications in the meantime.’
Victoria hesitated, reluctant to leave her daughter.
‘Mum, I’ll be fine,’ said Mimi. ‘There’s no point in you staying. All I want to do is go to sleep.’
‘I don’t like the thought of leaving you. You might need me.’
Mimi grinned.
‘What are you going to do to help? You’re useless at first aid, you hate needles, you faint at the sight of blood. Go home and come and get me tomorrow.’
Victoria finally relented. Outside in the corridor, she burst into tears. George put his arms around her. A couple walked past and gave them a sympathetic glance, assuming they’d had bad news.
‘Hey,’ he said gently, as she buried her head in his chest, her shoulders convulsing. ‘Mimi’s going to be fine. I know you’ve had a shock, but there’s no need to get yourself into a state.’
‘It’s not Mimi,’ Victoria croaked.
‘Then what is it?’
She clung on to his lapels, looking up at him.
‘I think I might be pregnant.’
‘Oh.’ It took George a couple of seconds to digest this news. ‘How . . . pregnant?’ he asked lightly, an uneasy feeling growing inside him.
‘I’m a day late.’