"Only seventeen," I repeated, ignoring Babs, "and not terribly sophisticated in the – you know. The ways of the world."

Janey frowned. "Oh no, I disagree. He's a terrific kisser." I gaped at her like a goldfish.

She grinned back at me. “Don't gawp at me like that, he is. But that's all he is, as far as I know. Flora, we went to a beach party, then on into town. I'm so up to here with seventy-year-old civilized chit-chat around the table and the uptight British reserve. We found a club, for goodness sake. Yeah, your son's got a crush, and yeah, we had a dance, and a kiss, but no, I did not sleep with him."

I breathed heavily into her amused, dancing eyes. I was ridiculously relieved. "Right. Well. I mean, obviously I wasn't asking that—"

"Obviously you were. And you even got Tommy to quiz me. And obviously So What If I Had springs to mind. Geez, you've gotta lay off, Flora, if you don't mind me saying so. Cut those apron strings." She made a snip in the air with her fingers. Her eyes still danced at me as Babs’ would have. Another similarity between them occurred.

"You're not a mother," I told her. "You can't possibly understand."

"No, but I'm a person. And that makes me a much better objective critic. And trust me, Flora, you're a great Mum, but you're too on it. Too watchful. Even at supper, wherever, your eyes are on him. Just let go."

I stared at her, ready to deny it, but then I hung my head. It had been on my list. At the café. With Ted. Stop pretending to be a relaxed mother. Be one. I looked up. Wanted very much to tell her it was hard, almost impossible in my situation, as a single mother, with an only child, but I found I couldn't speak.

"And don't beat yourself up about it, either," she added, more kindly. "I told you, you're a great Mum, and he's a great kid because of it. And despite the rest of his totally weird, messed-up family. You've done a good job, but just let go from here on in. Let him think about America." She sipped her drink. "It's not such a bad place, you know." She grinned. "And we're not such a bad lot."

A loud throat-clearing noise could be heard from the front of the room. We glanced up. Belinda had caught us chatting, which wasn't in the script at all. She wanted total silence for the final prize of the day, the Admiral's Cup. We turned our backs on the whole show and leaned over the balcony out to sea.

"You think they're weird and messed up?" I whispered.