‘We didn’t “do drugs”,’ Grace protested. ‘No one “did drugs” in those days – it hadn’t even been invented.’
‘Oh, I forgot,’ Kate said, ‘you didn’t “do drugs”, youexperimented.’
‘Exactly.’ Grace was oblivious to her youngest child’s sarcasm. ‘Honestly, she’ll have you thinking I was some kind of debauched commune-dweller,’ she told Brian. ‘Anyway, why don’t you two go and get settled? Kate, you’re not in your old room. I’ve given you two the guest room – it’s bigger and it has the en-suite. I’m putting Will in your room.’
‘Oh!’ Kate experienced a moment of panic. She hoped to God there weren’t any of her old diaries lying around in there. Maybe she could sneak in later and turn the room over. As a teenager she had filled whole notebooks pouring out her unrequited love for Will, faithfully recording every word he had spoken to her and forensically analysing his every glance. ‘Why didn’t you put him in Lorcan’s room?’
‘Carmen’s in there,’ Grace told her.
‘I didn’t know she was coming.’ Kate was taken aback.
‘Lorcan’s afraid someone will run off with her while he’s away. She came down with your father and me.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Kate was a little hurt that they had managed to find room in the car for Carmen, while she and Brian had been reduced to travelling by bus. It also threw the family’s attitude to Brian into sharp contrast. Despite her mother’s effusive welcome, she couldn’t see her family spending time with him for his own sake.
‘You do like Carmen, don’t you, Kate?’
‘Oh, yes. She’s great. I just didn’t know she was coming.’
* * *
Each of the O’Neill children had his or her own bedroom in the house, which they had been allowed to paint whatever colour they liked. The result was a diverse range of idiosyncratic colour schemes that would make the house an estate agent’s nightmare if they ever chose to sell. Kate had painted hers a beautiful burntorange, the colour of the evening sun just before it sank into the sea.
The room she and Brian had been allocated was perhaps the most beautiful in the house, never having been subjected to a makeover at the hands of a whimsical teenager. It was also uncluttered by the confusion of shell and pebble collections, bodyboards, books and inflatable toys that filled the others to bursting point. The walls were painted a calming cornflower blue, and the muslin curtains blowing in the breeze added to the Zen-like atmosphere. The shelves contained only a few artfully placed knick-knacks, and the wardrobes and drawers were empty. As she kicked off her shoes, Kate noticed that the wooden floorboards didn’t have a trace of the sand that, despite rigorous sweeping and hoovering by the housekeeper, had insinuated itself into every nook and crevice of the rest of the house.
Kate dumped her bag on the floor and threw herself onto the big double bed, sinking into the fat duvet and breathing in the smell of crisp, clean linen. Brian wandered over to the window, which overlooked the garden and, beyond, the sea. The sounds of the children playing drifted up to them.
‘Sorry about Mum,’ Kate yawned. ‘She gets a bit carried away.’
‘It’s kind of cool that she was a hippie.’
‘Oh, don’t listen to her. She wasnota hippie. The closest she ever came to it was being groped by John Lennon at a party – or was it Mick Jagger?’
‘Who’s Carmen?’ Brian asked.
‘Lorcan’s latest girlfriend. He only met her the day of Rachel’s wedding,’ Kate confessed, aware that this was an example of the way her family took people over. If only Brian knew he had nothing to worry about on that score.
She pushed herself up from the bed. ‘Ready to face the music?’ she asked.
‘Not quite.’ He came to join her on the bed. ‘The sea air has given me an appetite,’ he mumbled, pulling her into his arms and kissing her.
‘I’m not sure we have time.’ Kate gasped as she felt the soft warmth of Brian’s lips on her neck. ‘Everyone will be wondering where we are,’ she protested half-heartedly, raising her arms so that he could pull off her T-shirt and tugging at his. She moaned softly as he caressed her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her nipples until they were as hard as he was.
‘I think we’re eating soon,’ she muttered ineffectually, as he pushed her back onto the bed and unzipped her jeans.
He lifted his head momentarily, eyes dark with desire. ‘I’m eating now,’ he murmured, running his tongue from her belly button to the edge of her knickers.
* * *
Some time later, showered and changed, Kate and Brian made their way to the garden. It was a perfect summer’s evening, the sun still warm, the only background noise the peaceful rustling of the trees and the soporific hum of bees as they plundered the overstuffed flowerbeds. The quiet sounds of nature seemed at once to magnify and soften the low buzz of conversation, the clink of ice in glasses and the occasional shouts of the children as they kicked a ball with Will and Josie at the far end of the lawn. The evocative summery smells of suntan lotion and barbecuing food mingled in the air.
Conor and Tom were standing, drinks in hand, discussing their respective journeys down, swapping notes about snarl-ups and short-cuts, while Conor idly manned the barbecue. ‘Your bigmistake was not taking that turn-off where I told you,’ he was telling Tom, as he shuffled things around on the coals.
‘Hi, Kate, Brian.’ He smiled fondly at his sister. ‘How was your journey? Kate and Brian came on the bus,’ he told Tom, without having waited for an answer, ‘the only way slower than the one you took.’
‘Brian came on the bus because he’s committed to the environment,’ Grace informed Conor reprovingly, as she swept past with a tray of glasses and cutlery and began to set the long wooden table under the magnolias.
‘Should be committed to a mental institution,’ Conor murmured to Tom.
