‘No one seems very hungry,’ Amy said eventually.
‘It’s the heat, I think,’ Heather said. ‘But I’m sure we’ll eat it later.’
‘It was a mistake setting up outside,’ Amy said, and she was right. Even in the shade of the olive tree the heat was unbearable. Sweat kept dripping off my chin on to my plate.
Once we’d cleared the table, they chose rooms. Heather went on so much about how lovely the place was that I thought she sounded a bit fake. Ant, on the other hand, seemed unimpressed and a bit edgy, but as the girls were unusually quiet too, I gave them all the benefit of the doubt and assumed they were just shell-shocked from the journey.
From four to six, we all slept. The cave-bedrooms were cool, silent and pitch black. I don’t think I’ve ever slept better anywhere in my entire life than I did during those siestas in Spain.
After sleeping, as the temperature dropped, everyone seemed a little more relaxed. The kids splashed around in the pool; Amy sat nattering to Heather; and Ant wandered around holding his phone in the air, desperately trying to get reception. You could tell from the get-go that the lack of Internet was going to be a problem for him.
Around eight we ate the leftovers from lunch, and then while Heather and I cleared the table in amicable silence, Amy and Ant walked to the dirt track that ran in front of the courtyard.
From the kitchen, I heard a peal of Amy’s laughter. The sound brought a smile to my face, and I decided, in that moment, that this would prove to have been a good idea after all. She’d laughed a lot when I’d first met her, but I was realising, only now, that laughter had become a rarity for both of us. In fact, the only time I could remember either of us laughing in recent times was the drunken meal we’d had with Ant and Heather.
When I returned outside for more plates, I saw them silhouetted against the flaming night sky. There was a rickety old wooden bench on the far side of the track and they were seated on it, looking out. The sky was so impressive that I decided to join them for a moment.
‘What’s so funny?’ I asked when I got there, and they twisted in their seats to look up at me.
‘Um?’ Amy said.
‘I heard you laughing at something,’ I told her. ‘I love to hear you laugh like that.’
‘Oh, I asked her what you do around here for kicks,’ Ant said. ‘That’s funny, apparently.’
‘You look at that,’ I said, nodding at the sky. It was turning purple along the tops of the mountains, and a deep red to the right above the fields.
‘Amazing, huh?’ Amy said.
‘Yeah, it’s pretty cool,’ Ant said. ‘But I’m not sure it’s gonna keep me entertained all week.’
Despite an early night, I woke up late. A strip of sunshine was leaking through the gap beneath the door and I could hear children’s shrieks coming from the pool.
I lay there for a moment in the darkness, slowly coming to, and then, realising that Amy was beside me, and concerned that I couldn’t hear any adult voices outside, I got up.
The sunlight, when I opened the door, was blinding, and I had to hunt down my sunglasses before it was physically possible to step outside.
All three kids were in the jacuzzi and Heather was sitting on the side, dangling her feet in the water and reading a magazine. She was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt.
‘Oh, good morning!’ she exclaimed, looking up. ‘I was worried you’d died in your sleep.’
I blinked, a little shocked by her off-key remark. ‘Late, is it?’ I asked.
‘Ten thirty,’ she said. ‘We’ve been up since eight, haven’t we, kids?’
‘Where did that come from?’ I asked, indicating the pink lilo the kids were playing on.
‘Ant found it in the outhouse,’ Heather explained. ‘There were two, actually, but the green one had a puncture, so . . .’
‘Is Ben being good?’
Heather nodded and smiled vaguely. ‘As gold,’ she said.
‘And where is Ant?’ I asked, looking around.
‘Oh, he’s around,’ Heather said. Then, ‘Look, have either of you ever managed to get phone reception? Because I think it’s going to drive him insane pretty soon.’
‘Amy did, briefly,’ I said. ‘Ben? Where was it Mum managed to get a phone signal?’
‘Down the track,’ Ben said, pointing. ‘Where the trees are.’
‘Only barely, though,’ Amy said.
I turned to see her standing in the doorway, shading her eyes with her arm. ‘It picked up for, like, a minute. But I couldn’t even listen to my voicemail. Why, what’s up? Does someone need to make a call?’
‘It’s just Ant,’ Heather explained. ‘He doesn’t like to feel cut off.’
‘Came to the wrong place then, didn’t he?’ Amy laughed. She started to turn towards the interior, then hesitated and asked, ‘Coffee, anyone?’
Just as she returned with two mugs of coffee, Ant appeared as well, still waving his phone around in the air. ‘Nada,’ he said.
‘Wow!’ Amy joked. ‘Speaking the lingo already, are we?’
‘I’m sorry?’ Ant said.
‘It’s Spanish,’ Heather explained. ‘Nada. It’s Spanish for “nothing”, right?’ She glanced at me and I nodded.
‘Oh,’ Ant said. ‘Right. And what’s Spanish for “no bloody phone signal” then, clever clogs?’ he asked her.
‘Sin señal de teléfono,’ Amy said. She put her mug down on the table and circled the pool to join Ant. ‘Try over there,’ she said, resting one hand in the
