They are treating her as if she were a child, an ill child. Poppy and Charley are giggling together; there is a smothered hiccup then more laughter in small explosive bursts. Izzy is watching them with a smile. Sorrel is asleep, her mouth wide open, her cheeks a warm red. Eve passes round slices of spinach pie on plates; she is smiling at Martin and seems focused on the food. Perhaps that’s why she doesn’t realize that the girls are clearly drunk.

‘Orange squash anyone? Nothing else, sadly.’ She glances at Eric as she pours out sticky orange liquid into plastic cups. Poppy shakes her head, spluttering with laughter.

Martin helps himself to a large slice of pie, Eric distributes salad to the children.

‘Eat this.’ Eve gives her a slice of pie and salad; she touches Melly’s arm. ‘And enjoy, forget about calories for once.’

Melissa takes a mouthful of lettuce, her molars crunch together, tiny grains of sand must have got into the leaves. She puts her plate down. She won’t mention the wine. Why get the girls into trouble? They wouldn’t have drunk it all, a couple of swigs each would have been enough; they must have hidden the bottle in the bamboo. Izzy is safe, the girls are safe; that’s all that matters, she should be thankful. She takes five black grapes and settles in the shade of the umbrella. She bought a postcard in the village today; a painted one with a view of the mountains. She takes a pen from her bag: Dear Lina, I expect you’re enjoying the peace. She puts her pen down and stares at the sea. She could have brought Lina with them if only she’d thought of it. She would have relaxed in the sun, maybe swum in the sea. Eve would have been fine with her staying. Lina’s face was tired on the morning they left, she doesn’t hum her little tunes any more but she still listens, better than anyone. I miss you, she writes.

‘I’m going for a swim.’ Eve stands up, stripping off her dress. She is wearing a red bikini bottom, nothing else.

‘You can’t,’ Melissa whispers. ‘The children.’

‘It’s fine, Melly.’ Eve looks down at her, amused. ‘The kids are unconscious. It’s a holiday. No one cares.’