Page 62 of The Summer That Changed Us

‘It’s an aubergine dip. Do you like hummous?’ Katie asked Amber, who nodded. ‘Then you’ll love it.’

‘Deal.’ Amber linked arms with Katie. ‘If you come around to ours, we can have it tonight. What else do we need to make it?’

Katie looked at Barney, who sighed with amusement.

‘Katie,’ he said formally, giving her a little bow. ‘Would you care to join us for dinner?’

A million fireflies lit up inside her as she looked at Amber’s hopeful face and Barney’s handsome smile. ‘I’d love to.’

‘You know you’re cooking it, right?’ said Amber, tugging Katie to the checkout.

‘What?’ she feigned outrage and looked over her shoulder at Barney.

He grinned. ‘It’s either that or a curried fish finger.’

A little over an hour later, Katie surveyed the kitchen table on which lay a Middle-Eastern feast she’d concocted with Barney and Amber: couscous studded with pomegranate, toasted pitta bread with garlicky baba ganoush, a crisp salad and baby baked potatoes. Amber was outside transferring lamb kebabs and thick slices of halloumi from the barbeque to a plate.

Cooking with, and for, these two had made such a nice change to making dinner for one, and it was a treat to witness their father–daughter relationship. Amber had lost her mum and that was terrible, but she was fortunate to have a wonderful dad; anyone could see that the bond that they had was special. Barney was patient with his girl, he talked to her like a grown-up, but let her know where the boundaries were too. But as happy and cheerful as the pair of them were, Katie sensed that Sophia was very much missed. It was in the way they casually referred to ‘Mum’s special bowl’, and the flowers in the vase by the front door (peonies, Amber pointed out, were Mum’s favourites), the photographs on surfaces, cataloguing her place in the family.

Barney ushered her into a chair and took the seat opposite her.

‘Thank you for inviting me for dinner,’ said Katie, smiling her thanks at Barney as he poured her a glass of red wine. She took a sip and let the flavours roll over her tongue.

‘Thank you for taking my aubergine in hand,’ said Barney.

Did he really just say that? Now she couldn’t look at him. All she could think of was an aubergine emoji. She gulped at the wine and it hit the back of her throat, making her cough. By the time her eyes had stopped streaming, Amber had arrived with a plateful of fragrant food and set it down on the table, and thankfully the moment was glossed over.

‘That looks amazing, Amber!’ she said.

‘Yes,’ said Barney, his glass obscuring most of his face. ‘Well done, darling, let’s get stuck in!’

Amber held her glass out hopefully and he filled it with water from a jug on the table.

‘In France, children are given wine at the dinner table,’ she huffed. ‘It teaches them to be mature around alcohol.’

‘Chacun à son goût,’ said Barney.

Amber looked at him blankly. ‘What?’

‘They also speak French at the dinner table,’ said Barney. ‘Do you want to do that as well?’

‘Non,’ she replied darkly. She swirled some pitta bread into the aubergine dip and made a show of how much more delicious it was than curry.

Touché. Katie risked smiling at him and he smiled back.

‘How are you both enjoying life in Merle Bay?’ she asked.

‘Well … ’ Amber thought about it. ‘I miss the shops and I miss being able to get a bus or the tube whenever I need to be somewhere. But I love being by the sea and we’re getting a kitten so it’s cool.’

‘I love the quaint cottages and the harbour.’ Barney offered her the plate of halloumi and she took a piece. ‘I love the lack of traffic and the proximity to the sea.’

Katie nodded. ‘It’s peaceful here, isn’t it?’

‘Except for the seagulls!’ Barney shook his head in disbelief. ‘What a racket.’

‘We don’t need a morning alarm, that’s for sure,’ said Amber. ‘If they’re not squawking, they’re scrabbling on the roof fighting.’

‘You’ll get used to them,’ Katie laughed. ‘I don’t think I even hear them anymore. Alice says you’re renting this house?’