Chapter 7
7
The Hideaway, St Aidan
Dogs and bones
Saturday
‘M um, can we have a dog?’
Apart from Plum, who’s gone off to open the gallery, half an hour later we’re all crowded onto The Hideaway’s front veranda, dipping into ice cream served in cups, which seemed a small price to pay to hurry us away from the hotel. But when Sophie hears Milla’s question her spoon stops short of her mouth.
Being Sophie, she collects herself in two seconds flat. ‘That’s a lovely thought, sweetie. But we don’t have the room.’
Milla tosses her head. ‘We all know that’s bollocks! I can see the castle from here, it’s big enough to house a Husky pack.’
Milla’s always been encouraged to be forthright and express her opinions, but there’s an edge to her voice here that’s new. When I think of the teenage rebels Sophie and I were, I realise it was bound to happen.
Sophie’s eyes snap open wide. ‘Can you please watch your language in front of the babies! We simply don’t have space in our life for a dog.’
Sophie’s never had much empathy with animals. As kids I was the one with the rabbits running round the kitchen while she was the one complaining about the poop on the bottom of her ballet shoes, so I sympathise with Milla.
‘Why not share Shadow with me, Mills? We’re always up for company on walks.’
‘Thank you, Floss.’ Sophie gives a relieved eye-roll. ‘So now that’s sorted, are the guys next door besties or a couple? And did anyone else notice Plum?’
The small matter of Kit’s super-attractive fiancée – now possibly wife – Violetta, whose name crashed back into my head at three this morning, could be the decider. But I’m not about to throw that into the public domain now.
Milla grins at me. ‘I’d love to help with Shadow.’ Her smile widens. ‘And Kit might be prissy with his shirts, but judging from his reactions earlier, he’s definitely into girls.’
Clemmie sighs. ‘Let’s hope for Plum’s sake Rye’s the same.’
Milla’s still looking at me. ‘Your beach hut is great, Aunty Floss, but you could take it a lot further with the right accessories.’
This time it’s my ice-cream spoon halted in mid-air, but put on the spot, I’m reacting as fast as Sophie did. ‘Moving is an expensive time, I’ll do more when I’ve saved up.’
Milla’s rolling her eyes at me. ‘Mum spent a fortune zhuzhing the castle, but you don’t have to buy new. Everything in my room came from charity shops and Freecycle.’
Sophie sticks out her chin. ‘Before you start banging on about repurposing, Milla, I’m recycling an entire building , remember.’
Milla’s shaking her head. ‘No need to get your Spanks in a knot, Mum, I’m only saying if my friends and I come here for our girlie get-together next weekend instead of ours, we can give Aunty Florence some practical suggestions.’
I can’t help interrupting. ‘You wear support pants, Soph? ’ Of all of us here, there’s not an inch to spare on her neat, trim frame. As for baby weight, she’s that rare kind of woman who snaps back to her pre-pregnancy shape the second she jogs out of the maternity ward.
Sophie rolls her eyes. ‘Believe me, after four babies I need them.’ Then her face falls as she turns to Milla. ‘Your pampering day was about trying out my new teen range at home !’
Milla blows out a breath. ‘But it’s so pretty here. And there are the landscape guys next door at the hotel too…’
Sophie does a double take. ‘ Gardeners? ’
Milla lets out a sigh. ‘The hot sixth formers all got Saturday jobs tidying the grounds.’ She doesn’t leave space for a reply. ‘Don’t make it a big deal, Mum. Aunty Florence is the new face of the Little Cornish Kitchen and we’ll be helping her make the beach hut the best it can be.’
It seems no time since Milla was Arnie’s size. I was finishing sixth form and Sophie was in her final year at uni when she had her, and holding Milla in my arms the day she was born is one of the most wondrous moments of my life to date. I’m blinking back the tears as I think of how small she was. How I held her on my chest, all snuffly in her stripy Babygro.
Milla’s sensing Sophie’s weakening. ‘I ran it past Aunty Florence earlier, and she’s fine with it.’
I’m opening and closing my mouth, not wanting to betray either of them.
Sophie looks up at the sky, then relents. ‘So long as you promise not to entertain hotel staff at the beach hut – okay, we can relocate here.’
Milla winces. ‘You don’t actually need to be here in person, Mum.’ She hesitates. ‘Weren’t you the one telling Aunty Flo not to be a helicopter parent?’
Sophie’s sending me the kind of ‘what the hell?’ glance I’m not used to. ‘Aunty Floss might not be strong enough to manage six of you. She has been ill.’
Milla gives a defiant glance. ‘And she’s fully recovered and cancer-free! She doesn’t want to be an invalid for ever!’
I’ll never be as robust as I was before, but she has a point – all I want now is to be normal.
Sophie rolls her eyes at me. ‘I’ll ask Mum to give you a hand.’ She hesitates. ‘Or better still, you ask. She always responds better to you than me.’
We both know our mum’s unlikely to be free at short notice, but if it gives Sophie a sense of control, that’s fine.
Clemmie leans across to me. ‘If your mum can’t make it, the rest of us will cover.’ She turns to Milla. ‘How many are coming?’
Milla counts on her fingers. ‘Now the venue’s been upgraded, probably ten!’
I grin around at them. ‘So many girls on my deck, what a great way to spend a Saturday!’
Milla squeezes my hand as tightly as she did when she was three. ‘We’ll obviously need to come inside too. That will be okay? ’
‘Of course.’ The words are out before I have time to think if Shadow and I really want to share our space with that many excitable adolescents, but we have a whole week to get used to the idea.
Milla’s spikiness has melted away as she smiles at Sophie. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll come home for our sleepover. Then we can binge-watch Emily in Paris , Sex Education and Happy Feet .’
None of this is what I’d planned, but listening to that list, I suspect I got the easy part of this bargain.