‘Dylan has gone in search of himself, I expect,’ Brian persisted, still hanging onto the chair, and managing to deliver the platitude with a gaucheness that somehow made it comforting. ‘As young people do. No doubt he’ll come back when he is adventure-weary or broke, or both. The prodigal son. Far sooner than you fear, I bet. Then he’ll turn into one of those whizz kids with starry careers because they were gutsy enough to jump off the gravy train. Look – at least he’s been in touch, right? The way I see it, serious rebels don’t write messages to their mums, do they?’ He threw her his immaculate smile and picked up both her water glass and her mug of tea. ‘I shall take these upstairs for you now, and Viv’s got a client in the morning, so I’ll be the one to pop you to the airport. If you go for the eleven-thirty, we’ll need to hit the road by eight. If that sounds okay.’

‘It does, Brian. More than okay. Thank you. I’ll book it now. You have been very kind,’ Esther murmured, suddenly deeply tired. ‘I am really sorry to be ending my lovely stay with all this palaver. I have had the most wonderful time. You and Viv… I can’t think where I would be without you both.’ She wiped a rogue tear from her cheek before getting up to follow him inside, noting – with a little lift – that the half-drowned insect was nobly staggering to its spindly feet.

‘Glad to help.’ He smiled, waiting for her to go first so he could turn off the terrace lights.

GARDENING

16