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By Root 1501 0

the unexpectedly late September heatwave was too hot. The view, too shimmering and headache-inducing. The room, once a chaotic love nest, was now just a seedy jumble of clothes and bedding. Likewise the antics, the frolicking, the laughs with Ivan, running into the sea like children, having long lunches, too much to drink, watching the stars from the terrace wrapped in a blanket, all now seemed totally irresponsible. My son, aged fifteen, had spent the night walking eight miles in the dark, having been in the woods with a girl, whilst I’d been rolling around in bed, eating chocolate ice cream with my toy boy.

I punched out a number.

‘Seffy.’

‘Oh, hi, Mum.’

For some reason this nonchalant response completely threw me.

‘Seffy, how could you?’ I burst out. ‘After all we’ve said, after all your promises, all we’d discussed – how could you jeopardize your position like this?’

‘Oh, great. Nice of you to listen to my version first.’

‘Your version! You were snogging in the woods with some girl – or worse – and missed the bus back! What else is there to listen to?’

‘Well, thanks for your support, Mum. For that supreme vote of confidence. Nice to know you’re there in a crisis.’

I swallowed; gulping down some air. Then I threw my head back and gazed at the ceiling, blinking as my eyes filled. ‘I’m sorry. Sorry, my darling. I just… What happened?’

‘Like the man said, I missed the bus.’

‘That’s it?’

‘Yes, that’s it.’ He was punishing me now.

‘Right. Well, that’s – that’s understandable. You lost track of time.’ Silence. Which Seffy was so good at.

‘And – and we’ll talk about it when I get back. I’ll ring Laura, or—’

‘I’ve already done it. Grandpa’s coming.’

‘Oh, you’ve—’

‘Well, I knew you were in France getting all loved up. Didn’t want to disturb.’

‘Seffy, I am here on business!’

‘Whatever. Anyway, Grandpa’s coming. Gotta go, Mum. I need to see the head man.’

‘Do you? Oh, Seffy, please please be contrite, apologetic. Not lippy. Not clever, please—’

‘Crawl?’

‘Yes! Seffy, we cannot afford for you not to. You’ve been suspended, for heaven’s sake! That’s incredibly serious.’

‘Could be worse, as we both know. But, yeah, don’t worry. I’ll go in on my belly. Relax.’

Relax. Relax, he said. I clicked the phone shut. Then opened it again. I immediately rang Dad, thanking him profusely, assuring him I’d be back soon. I felt slightly calmed at hearing his steady, gentle tones.

‘Don’t worry, Hattie, all’s well. I’ll talk to the lad.’

And actually, he was the best man for the job, I thought. Better than me, who’d be shrill, hysterical.

Ivan appeared in the doorway, naked from the waist up. It didn’t transport me.

‘Problem?’ He cocked his head, thumbs linked in the belt hoops of his jeans; leaned against the doorframe.

I nodded. ‘Seffy’s been suspended.’

He frowned. ‘Oh. Drink?’

‘No, thank the Lord. Not this time. No, he missed the bus back from a social at a girls’ school. Walked back at three in the morning.’

Ivan threw back his head and laughed. ‘Atta-boy! Nice one.’

‘No it is not a Nice One, as it happens,’ I seethed. ‘The school takes a very dim view, and quite right too. He’s fifteen, Ivan! Too young to be caught doing God knows what with a girl!’ I was on my feet now, flying round the room; snatching up articles of clothing, throwing them on, struggling into linen trousers. ‘And Seffy’s on very thin ice as it is. This is all we need.’

‘Yes, I agree, but it could have been an awful lot worse. Drugs, bullying… Getting caught with a girl isn’t so bad. Could have been a boy.’

I swung round. ‘Ivan, this is not funny, and until you have a child of your own, you’ll never understand,’ I spat. ‘But then, you’re far too much of a child yourself, aren’t you?’

He blanched. ‘Well, thanks for that.’

‘My pleasure.’

I threw my passport in my bag.

‘You’re going?’

‘Of course I’m going. Ivan, my son has been sent home! Suspended!’

‘But the last fair’s today, in a couple of hours. You could get what you want and then go back. Surely Laura or your parents could collect him. What difference does a few hours make?’

‘The world