‘Lotte, go and join your brother and Luca outside.’

Matt ushers her towards the pool and shuts the back door. He swings towards them and folds his arms.

‘What’s up with you all?’ asks Bethany, looking from Matt and Amy to Nick and their dad. ‘You look as if you’ve got heatstroke.’

‘I’m going for a shower,’ Joe says and backs out of the house.

‘He can’t stay. And you shouldn’t have brought him, Nick.’ Matt rounds on her brother.

‘Can someone tell me what you’re so—’

‘Dad was playing with Lotte and she had a panic attack,’ Amy says.

‘He pulled her into the sea, even though she clearly didn’t want to go in, and then he ducked her – actually ducked her underwater,’ Matt says.

‘I did no such thing. I was attempting to entertain my granddaughter. I had no idea she was so frightened of water.’

‘I want you to leave, right now. I don’t want you near my family again,’ Matt says, addressing David directly, for almost the first time in a year.

‘Matt!’ Bethany says. ‘It doesn’t sound like it was his fault.’

‘Like the time he allowed my daughter to die?’

Their father stumbles slightly as if Matt has physically pushed him. He walks out of the sitting room and they can hear his heavy tread on the creaky floorboards as he goes into his bedroom upstairs.

‘You can’t say that to him!’ Bethany says. ‘He’s not himself. You know I took him for that dementia test last year. And you can see how forgetful he’s being. I’m sure he meant well this morning. He’s just a little insensitive and confused right now. Did you even know the kids were scared of water? Because if you did—’

‘Shut up, it’s none of your business.’

‘Matt’s right,’ Amy says, turning on her brother. ‘I asked you not to bring him, Nick. It wasn’t fair to him or to us. I can’t tell whether Dad has dementia or he’s forgetful because he’s getting on, or he’s his old, arrogant self, thinking he knows best, but whatever it is, he can’t be round our children right now. It’s not safe. We can’t have him with us.’

Nick opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it again and runs a hand through his hair. Bethany gets herself a glass of water and downs it in one. Her clothes and hair are dark with sweat. She swallows and wipes her forehead.

‘Well, it’s up to you, Amy,’ she says. ‘We’re all here for you. Nick, you should start looking into flights home for Dad. Maybe take him back to your flat; no, wait, his flat, since you like hanging out with him so much.’

‘There’s no need to be nasty,’ Nick says. ‘Just because you didn’t want to stay there when you left home.’

Bethany inhales sharply, but before she can reply, their father comes back down the stairs, banging his case on each step. He holds his sunhat in one hand.