Page 86 of Meet me at the Seaside Cottages

‘No. No,’ says Janey, rubbing her eyes. ‘We’re not bad people. Are we?’

Lowell shrugs. ‘I’m a privileged white man, Janey. I’m literally the worst person in the world.’

And Janey chokes out a giggle and wipes the mascara from under her eyes.

‘Maybe you should do Verity,’ she says, ‘and I should do Essie. Like a reverseStrangers on a Train.’

She gets in next to the girl on the back seat of the car and watches the game she’s playing, jewels tumbling in a line. It’s beautiful and hypnotic.

‘You like the iPad?’ she signs, after a while.

Verity nods and signs that it’s her dad’s. ‘I want to keep it,’ she adds, obviously in case Janey has any pull in that department.

‘I imagine there’s a way,’ signs Janey, figuring that given how beautiful Lowell’s house is, he can afford it, ‘but it would involve stuff like having to put time limits on it and stuff.’

Verity is far too smart a kid not to realise she’s been played, but also, she accepts Janey as a competitor, and lays the iPad down beside her. Janey pretends not to notice or care. God,kids were so much easier at this age. She has no idea why she thought it was difficult at the time.

‘C’mon,’ she signs. ‘Let’s walk.’

They climb out and Lowell locks the iPad in the car, looking at Janey as though she’s a fearsome magician. She’ll explain later. At this point she’s more interested in what’s eating Verity.

‘What’s up?’ she signs, keeping her hands as relaxed as possible, as if she absolutely couldn’t care less if Verity was currently being gnawed by a wolf.

And Verity tells her.

*

After she’s finished explaining, the child seems different, as if a weight has been lifted off her. Janey, for her part, is amazed and delighted, and deeply nostalgic for the days when her own daughter’s problems were so easily solvable. Would give anything for it. Still no messages.

They’ve entered the fullness of the wood now, a giant clearing filling up with a purple blue sea. Verity has stopped, her eyes and nose full of the colours, the heavy scent of it all, completely enthralled, and dashed off ahead with Felicity, to bound among the blue.

‘Well?’ says Lowell, catching up with her.

‘I’m sure she meant well,’ says Janey diplomatically. ‘But your wife was worried that Verity would start her periods while she’s here.’

‘But she’s not even eleven!’

Janey shrugs. ‘Perfectly possible, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, lord,’ says Lowell, shaking his head. ‘I never thought of that.’

‘Unfortunately, Verity’s got hold of the wrong end of the stick. Thinks that means it’s definitely going to happen and she’s not very well prepared.’

‘What did Thalia give her?’

Janey screws up her face. ‘It’s not . . . I mean, it’s not a bad idea. It’s called a moon cup. But it’s definitely for what I’d call . . . advanced menstruators?’

Lowell’s face makes Janey want to laugh. If she could get any less sexy than the dog pee bit, or the counselling bit, perhaps it’s now.

‘Lowell, your face!’

‘Sorry,’ he says, lumbering onwards. ‘You’re right, of course. I’m the wrong generation for all that.’

‘You are not!’ says Janey. ‘You’re my age. Which means you just weren’t listening.’

‘I’ve got two brothers,’ says Lowell. ‘It never really came up.’

‘Where are you in that line-up, out of interest?’

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