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.

But just then there came the slap of approaching flip-flop footsteps, light and quick, and Olivia was walking towards the pool, wearing a bright turquoise one-piece with a towel around her waist. ‘Hi,’ she said shyly, as Em turned. ‘You don’t mind if I join you, do you?’

‘Of course not,’ cried Em, the erstwhile hostess.

Olivia put her towel down on one of the loungers and approached the pool, twizzling her long blonde hair up with a scrunchie. ‘Oof,’ she said, as she began descending the steps into the water. ‘Not as warm as I was hoping.’ She had a sweet high voice, a round face beneath her blonde hair. Late thirties, Em guessed.