I sat on the edge of the other chair and tried not to jiggle. Mum leaned back and sighed, a contented, dreamy sound. Look at that, she said, and stretched out her arms towards the flirt and rush of the water. It was a soft evening, lavender waves lapping and the air sweet and salty as caramel, only a high thin haze in the sunset to say that the wind might turn on us and bite down sometime in the night. There’s nowhere like here, sure there isn’t. I wish I never had to go home. Don’t you?

Yeah. Probably. It’s nice.

Tell me something. That blond girl, the one with the nice dad who gave us milk that day we ran out. Is she your girlfriend?

Jesus! Mum! I was twisting with embarrassment.

She didn’t notice. Good. That’s good. Sometimes I worry that you don’t have girlfriends because … Another small sigh, as she brushed hair off her forehead. Ah, that’s good. She’s a lovely girl; she’s got a lovely smile.

Yeah. Amelia’s smile, the way her eyes came up sideways to meet mine; the curve of her lip that made me want to bite it. I guess.

Take good care of her. Your dad’s always taken good care of me. My mother smiled, reached across the gap between the chairs to pat my hand. So have you. I hope that girl knows how lucky she is.

We’ve only been going out a few days.

Are you going to keep on seeing each other?

I shrugged. Don’t know. She’s from Newry. In my head I was already sending Amelia mix tapes, writing out the address in my best handwriting, picturing the girl-bedroom where she would listen to them.

Stay in touch. You’d have beautiful children.

Mum! We’ve only known each other—

You never know. Something skimmed across her face, something swift and frail as the shadow of a bird on water. You never know, in this life.

Dean had a million little brothers and sisters, his parents didn’t care where he was; he would be down on the beach already, ready and waiting to leap on his chance. Mum, I have to go. OK? Can I?

I was half off my seat, legs braced ready to shoot me off through the dunes. Her hand reached across the gap again, caught hold of mine. Not yet. I don’t want to be on my own.

I glanced up the path towards Whelan’s, praying, but it was empty. Dad and the girls’ll be back any minute.

We both knew it would be longer than that. Whelan’s was where all the caravan-park families went: Dina would be running around playing catch and shrieking with the other little kids, Dad would get into a game of darts, Geri would sit on the wall outside flirting for just one more minute. Mum’s hand was still wrapped around mine. There are things I need to talk to you about. Things. It’s important.

My head was full up with Amelia, with Dean, with the wild sea-smell surging in my blood, with the whole cider-tasting world of night and laughter and mystery that was waiting for me in those dunes. I thought she wanted to talk about love, girls, maybe God forbid sex. Yeah, OK, just not now. Tomorrow, when we get home—just I have to go, Mum, seriously, I’m meeting Amelia—