‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d mind.’
This wasn’t true, of course; there was a reason why Stella hadn’t mentioned her spur-of-the-moment invitation until now. Part of her had been hoping Jon would refuse, so she wouldn’t ever have to. Louise was well within her rights to be annoyed; Stella would have been just as angry if she’d done the same to her.
‘I mind a lot, actually,’ Louise said sharply. ‘An extra person will change the dynamics. Plus, he’s bound to talk non-stop about Harriet. I thought you wanted to escape from that for a while, even though he’s been calling you constantly since you arrived anyway.’
Stella tried to catch Louise’s eye, to plead for forgiveness, but she was staring doggedly at her lap.
‘I’m sorry,’ Stella repeated. ‘I-I did want to get away from it,’ she added with a guilty stammer. ‘It’s just, I felt so bad for Jon. And I thought having all the children round would sort of dilute him. There’ll be so much going on, he’ll be too distracted to dwell on his woes.’
‘I’m not convinced about that.’
‘I thought you liked him?’
It was a cheap shot, but Stella was desperate to smooth things over and win Louise round.
‘You know I do.’ She still sounded angry, but her frown had started to lift. ‘Look, we should have discussed this first, but it’s done now. I know you asked him for the right reasons. It’s not ideal, but we’ll make the best of it and I’m sure it’ll be good for Jon, as you say.’
Relief washed over Stella, and she felt a whoosh of gratitude. That was one thing about Louise: she spoke her mind and flared up fairly easily, but didn’t bear grudges. She’d say her bit, then move on.
Stella was the one who tended to bottle things up and simmer away in silence. It had exasperated Al, especially after Harriet died.
‘How can I know what I’m doing wrong if you won’t tell me?’ he’d say.
He’d had a point, of course, but it was the way she’d always been. And unfortunately, stress and upset had put her in no mood to work on herself and try to change. In fact, it had only made things worse.
* * *
‘You’ve what?’
Hector scowled at his mother, who was still lying by the pool.
She’d broken the news of Jon’s visit to all four children, who’d just had a late lunch of Katerina’s leftover Greek salad and bread.
Will, in turquoise swimming trunks, and the girls, in their skimpy bikinis, had been sitting listening at the pool edge, dangling their feet in the water. It seemed it was only Hector who had a problem with Jon coming to stay.
‘Why the fuck did you ask him? He’s so fucking depressing. He just needs to open his mouth and I feel like slitting my wrists.’
Stella blinked and swallowed. She was used to Hector’s rudeness, but this was taking things to another level. He knew she’d hurt herself this morning, though she hadn’t told him about Marina’s creepy comments, which had troubled her even more.
‘Don’tsay things like that,’ she said, sitting up straight, her eyes flashing. ‘Don’t you dare make jokes about people killing themselves.’
The cut on her knee had only just stopped bleeding and she couldn’t bend the joint, for fear of breaking the newly formed scab. Her hands stung, too.
For once, Hector seemed to sense how close his mother was to the edge and backed down.
‘Sorry.’ He dug out his tobacco and cigarette papers from his jeans pocket and started to prepare a roll-up. ‘It’s a turn of phrase. I wasn’t thinking.’
Stella took a deep breath. ‘Okay.’ She wasn’t in the mood for a fight.
Hector was standing, barefoot and bare-chested, at the end of her lounger, casting a long shadow. He was pale and thin, but burned with anger.
‘I don’t understand why you asked him,’ he went on, just a little more gently. ‘None of us want him here.’
He glanced round for support, but the others had their heads down and were staring hard at the water.
Stella started to explain how Jon was lonely and a break would be good for him, but Hector wasn’t having it.
‘He should’ve booked his own holiday, not gate-crashed someone else’s.’
