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‘So,’ said Harry suddenly from beside her, ‘does that mean him and Granny were doing, like, snogging and stuff when you were little? Like you and Oliver’s dad?’
She watched Peter striding up towards the fells, through the bracken.
‘Yes, I suppose it does. Though I wouldn’t put it like that.’
It was a lot to take in; her mam had a holiday romance with a broad-shouldered sheep farmer — no, more than that, her mam had been in love and had given it all up so she would be happy. It wouldn’t be possible for her to love her mother any more than she already did — but what a sacrifice she’d made for her daughter.
‘Come on, let’s head back to the campsite. It’s breakfast time by now.’
‘What did he mean about the milk?’ Harry asked as he bounced along the path beside her.
‘The milk? Oh, he used to bring the milk in the mornings. I’d come downstairs and find him and my mam sitting at the kitchen table. I remember it now. I used to hear them downstairs and come running to see what they were doing. They used to look up as if I’d walked in on something private and secret. They’d stop talking and they’d be silent. I guess I’d walked in on something I shouldn’t.’
He was quiet for a while, thinking, as they headed back towards the campsite. ‘Mam?’
‘Yes?’
‘Are you and Oliver’s dad going to get together, or is it like Granny Jen, a holiday thing?’
She sighed.
‘I don’t know Harry. Everything’s complicated. Let’s not worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow, or after. Let’s make the most of today.’
