Izzie didn’t jump in, though. She sat at the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the water, with a strange look on her face. It was hard to read her expression while those mirrored sunglasses were down. ‘You had a phone call, George,’ she said in this artless sort of way. She tossed her head so that her long tawny hair fell swishily down her back, then turned her gaze back towards him. ‘It was a woman.’

It was weird, the way she said it, carefully enunciated, loaded almost. Oh God, thought Em immediately. What woman? What had happened?

George seemed to be taking great care not to look directly at Izzie. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Any woman in particular, or did you not get that far?’

‘Your ex-wife,’ Izzie said, which was rude, seeing as Charlotte did have a name, and Em was fairly sure her daughter knew it. She raised an eyebrow. ‘I told her you were semi-naked and a bit tied up with Mum, so . . .’

Oh Lord. Charlotte calling from Berlin, presumably to find out what the drama had been about earlier when George had tried to get through. And Izzie had felt it necessary to say that?

‘Right,’ said George. Despite being pretty much the most easy-going, amiable person Em had ever met, even he appeared kind of irritated at this. ‘Another time just give me a shout, I could easily have come in to talk to her. Does she want me to call back?’

Izzie lifted a single shoulder in a couldn’t-care-less shrug. She must still be smarting with George over the Seren business earlier, Em realized wretchedly.

‘Right,’ said George again, with a certain amount of weariness. ‘I’d better go in and talk to her.’ He hauled himself out of the pool, water running down his back and arms. ‘Won’t be long.’

‘Me too,’ Seren cried at once. ‘I want to talk to Mummy as well!’ A whining note had entered her voice as she clambered up the pool steps, still wearing the flamingo rubber ring. ‘To tell her about being hurt. Being pushed!’

Izzie scowled and Em’s smile became fixed like a mask as they went inside. Moments later, it was Jack’s turn to heave himself onto the side. ‘I’m starving,’ he said, ambling towards the house.

‘Okay, well, don’t drip everywhere,’ Em called after him. ‘Dry your feet before you go in!’

He showed no sign of responding or even having heard her, and Em sighed, feeling her holiday-fun mood leaking away, like the stale air from a punctured lilo. ‘Fancy a swim, Iz?’ she asked weakly, but Izzie merely snorted and tossed her hair before padding back inside.

Right. And then there was one, Em thought, swishing her legs gently underwater as she leaned against the pool’s smooth concrete lip. Maybe she would just stay here a while, leave George to deal with everything. Ignore any shouts of argument. Duck her head underwater so that she didn’t have to hear the next fight.