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He bounded into the bedroom. ‘Where’s Oliver gone? I didn’t do anything, Mam, I promise. It was his idea to put his head in the water, it wasn’t me. You said I shouldn’t do it and I didn’t!’
‘I know. I know it wasn’t. Don’t worry, Harry.’ She must sound as dazed as she felt.
‘Mam? What’s wrong? I don’t get it, it was only a bit of water. I mean, I know you said not to, but Oliver said you had told me not him so he could do it if he wanted, because his dad hadn’t told him.’
‘It’s not that,’ she said, moving towards Harry where he stood in the doorway, the bare floorboards creaking beneath her feet. ‘It was something else Oliver was upset about.’
‘You didn’t tell him off about the water, did you?’
‘No, Harry. I did something which upset him much more than that. I kissed Oliver’s daddy, and Oliver didn’t like it.’
Harry stood, stock still in the middle of the room, the shaft of light from a tiny skylight above the stairs striking him like a searchlight in the dim light of the cottage, and looked at her with total disgust.
‘Urgh … Mam! You mean you snogged Oliver’s dad? You snogged him? That’s so gross! Why would you want to do that?’
‘Because …’ Oh, so many reasons. So very many reasons why she’d kissed Matt, none of which she could explain to Harry right now. ‘You wouldn’t understand. Come on, let’s finish looking round the cottage, then we’ll take the keys back to Mrs. Thompson.’
