Even now, for Maggie, the unfolding of a map promised so much interest and discovery. She’d been looking forward to having Amelia to herself this fortnight, the two of them poring over the marks on the paper together and plotting their days out, as a return to old times, a nod back to all the other maps they’d enjoyed studying in summers gone by. But that could wait, she supposed. They could check out the area later on, make some plans then. And anyway, look on the bright side, Maggie, she ordered herself. This was a good thing, really – Amelia being positive about the holiday and heading out for a swim of her own volition. When Maggie had rather pessimistically been expecting her to plug straight into the Wi-Fi, then go up to her bedroom and catch up on all her social media in sulking solitude until it was time to eat. She’d been steeling herself for battles about going out anywhere interesting, now that Amelia was claiming to find everything boring and lame. And yet here was her daughter, choosing exercise and fresh air for herself after all and, in so doing, completely defying her mother’s low expectations. How could she possibly complain about that?

Swimming was a great idea. They’d had a long and rather fractious journey, the roads clogged with traffic and the air-con in the car seemingly suffering an existential crisis. The prospect of sliding underwater into cool, tranquil blue was immensely appealing.

Hurrying up the narrow staircase to her bedroom with its pleasing, pared-down simplicity – every time Maggie went on holiday, she found herself vowing to live with fewer possessions, to adopt a more spartan lifestyle, although it never lasted – she began unpacking her clothes. Jumpers, hoodies, T-shirts, hiking leggings . . . ah, her swimming costume, there it was. She shut the curtains and stripped off, briefly noticing that her legs could do with a shave, before squeezing herself into the black one-piece.

There were two towels folded in a neat pile on the end of the bed and she picked them both up, in case Amelia hadn’t remembered one, in her haste – and hoped with a small shiver of trepidation that the water wouldn’t be too cold. The pool was heated, apparently, but this was England, after all, and although it had been a warm sunny day, it was now almost six o’clock and the air temperature was starting to fall. A quick dip before dinner would be lovely, though, she reminded herself bracingly, imagining the two of them laughing together as they attempted wonky underwater handstands and tried to remember how to do tumble-turns. It would be a really holidayish thing to do. Perhaps even start the mother–daughter bonding!