‘Not for me, thank you,’ Rebecca said to the waiter.

‘With my blood pressure, me neither,’ said Mr Pitkin.

Leona saw him look her mother over and like what he saw. But why wouldn’t he? Rebecca, though she alone among the women here had done nothing to disguise her age, was, with her natural elegance, the most striking female present, from which Leona did not exclude herself, and she an attractive redhead still in her forties.

My mother’s simple beige outfit makes Auntie Ray and her pals look overdressed, thought Leona. And the hostess’ facelift made her something of a travesty, given her dowager’s hump.

‘So you and me, we have something in common. Neither of us drinks,’ Mr Pitkin was saying with a smile to Rebecca. ‘How are you enjoying your vacation?’

‘I’ve always been a sun-worshipper, Mr Pitkin.’

‘Call me Joe.’

‘My elder brother’s name is Joe.’

‘And I have a sister named Rebecca! How’s that for coincidence?’

The rapport the two seemed to be establishing impelled Leona to inform Mr Pitkin – and remind her mother – of her father’s existence.

‘My dad loves the sun, too,’ she said conversationally, ‘but he couldn’t come with Mum to visit her sister. He’s a busy doctor.’

Mr Pitkin looked as if he was thinking, Why are the ones I fancy never available? ‘And I guess your dad is missing your mom,’ he said, allowing himself to add, ‘I sure would if I were him.’

The Mr Pitkin incident was ten days ago and while Leona was remembering it, her mother had got up to take a swim. Nor had she yet answered the question Leona had come to ask. Instead, she had let it hang in the air and it occurred to Leona that she was perhaps putting off the moment.

Rebecca had swum to the opposite side of the pool and was now seated chatting to some of the women for whom, like Leona’s aunt, it was a facility that went with living in one of these expensive apartments.

How easily my mum has adjusted to this lifestyle, Leona reflected. To the daily dips in the pool, and the non-stop socializing – as if its participants were determined to enjoy every minute of the time left to them – the morning shopping before the day grew too hot, the elaborate luncheons, and in the evenings a game of bridge in someone’s air-conditioned living room.

Leona had found herself marvelling at the energy Auntie Ray and her friends managed to muster at their age. But was it perhaps the energy of desperation? As though if they let themselves wind down they’d be out of the race against time.