Chapters (40)
- Cover
- About the Author
- PENGUIN BOOKS
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- THE BEGINNING
She looked across at Luke as he cut up the peaches with his Swiss Army knife, running the blade through the rosy flesh in a complete circle, easing the two halves apart, carefully prising out the stone, cutting the halves into segments and laying them on the plate. A little nostalgic shudder of lust passed through her. She wouldn’t see him again, nor feel his hands on her. He was already part of her past, something that might have been. He felt her gaze and looked up. His face was grave, attentive, a bit remote. She attempted a small, rueful smile; he laid down the knife and then, in front of Neil and Lorrie, reached over and put his warm, broad hands over hers.
In her mind, she was standing up, pulling him to his feet and leading him down the ladder, past sleeping Mickey, to her cabin; she was closing the flimsy door, closing the thin curtains and lifting her crumpled shirt over her head … Lorrie leant forward and poured coffee for them all; Luke lifted his hands away from hers to cradle his mug. Irene sipped the acrid brew, slid a segment of cold, ripe peach into her mouth.
‘OK,’ she said.
Luke stood up. ‘Time to get moving then.’
‘I guess.’
‘I’ll start the engine.’
‘Are you all packed?’ asked Lorrie.
‘Yes. There wasn’t much anyway.’
‘It won’t be the same without you,’ said Neil, his chin on his daughter’s head as she ate her croissant, and she looked at him with surprise. He’d been a dry, pale presence for her – Lorrie’s husband, Katherine’s father, a half-sketched figure in the background, hidden by her over-coloured emotions.
‘Thank you,’ she said awkwardly, feeling as if she was making a speech but had forgotten to bring the notes. ‘It’s been lovely. You’ve been lovely – all of you. I was a stranger and you made me welcome. I feel restored.’
‘You make it sound as if we won’t see you again,’ said Lorrie, as Luke disappeared from their view.
‘You have to say goodbye to Mickey for me,’ said Irene.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Katherine, suddenly lifting her head and staring at Irene with suspicious, reddened eyes.
‘I’m going home.’
‘I want to go home, too. Mummy, I want to go home.’