‘It’s fine, Dan, I’ll sleep here, with the kids,’ I said, looking up from Peppa Pig, much to Freddie’s annoyance. ‘No need for anyone to sleep on the floor,’ I added. If he was going to offer to swap our room, then he could sleep alone.
I went back to the book sulkily and continued to read while he stood in the doorway for a few seconds, until Joy called for him downstairs and off he went. And there was the rub – he was torn between his wife and his mother. He’d been used to being told what to do all his life, but with two of us, he had to choose, and he always chose the stronger.
Eventually, Freddie confirmed that his ‘headache’ didn’t actually hurt, as I’d suspected.
‘It isn’t a headache then,’ I said.
‘It IS, Mummy!’
‘It has to hurt to be a headache, silly billy.’ I ruffled his hair.
‘I’m not Billy, I’m Freddie,’ he giggled.
‘Oh, I thought you were Billy, where’s Billy then?’ I said, and started calling for Billy, which made him giggle, and when I looked under the pillow, he collapsed in mirth. He really didn’t have a headache, so I suggested we join the others by the pool. He was delighted at this prospect, and I helped him on with his swimming trunks and stepped into my own black one-piece. I’d cut down on wine and sugar a few weeks before the holiday and hoped my old costume – I hadn’t had time to buy a new one – would look better on me than previous years. I’d worn my costume the first couple of days, but after Ella’s arrival, I couldn’t face having to stand near her while she was wearing some fabulous fluorescent thong. Just the thought of Ella’s swimwear made me feel insecure as I stared in the full-length mirror.
No two ways about it – I needed a sarong for my dimpled thighs, something I hadn’t really thought about until I saw how smooth Ella’s thighs were. I dug out a big black one and wrapped it around me and, clutching a huge bottle of sun cream like a shield, I carried Freddie down the huge staircase and set off for the pool.
As we approached, I could see Ella standing at the side, stretching and holding her thick blanket of hair up to the sun in worship. I was shocked how tiny her bikini was –the bottoms didn’t even cover her backside! Was it a bit much in front of her new in-laws, or was I showing my age?
I couldn’t help but notice the S bend of her spine as she leaned back to stretch, her breasts pointing to the sun in a way that was either magical or surgical. Even as I walked around the far side of the pool, I could see her tummy was taut, hips enviably svelte, her body confidence through the roof. At seventeen years younger than me, she wasn’t just from another generation, she was from another planet. Waddling by the pool, a child on one hip, scars from childbirth and baby weight still clinging on from my two-year-old, I felt like the resident brood mare. I watched her from behind my sunglasses – she was perfect. Even bending over into the bushes to pick up Alfie’s beach ball didn’t cause a ripple or a dimple, just golden flesh, smooth as a pebble.
‘Ella… Ella, over here!’ Alfie was calling as she bent right over, the cheeks of her bottom on full view to everyone around the pool. He was sitting on Jamie’s shoulders, Violet was sitting with Granny and Grandad crayoning and Dan – ‘the amazing father’ Ella had admired the previous evening – was asleep on a sunlounger.
I tightened my sarong around me and, still holding Freddie, went to sit with Violet and Joy – safety in numbers and all that.
‘Hey, Mummy,’ Violet shouted, announcing my arrival.
Jamie waved, Ella looked up and gave me her whitest Instagram smile and Joy lowered her sunglasses like she couldn’t believe it was me.
‘Is Freddie better?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘Doesn’t he have a headache?’
‘No, he’s fine.’ Then I remembered with a thump that she knew what I’d said about her being bossy. ‘But thanks for asking, Joy, you’re always so thoughtful,’ I added. Yes, if pressed, I could admit to her that I’d said she was bossy, but I could also deny it, say Ella lied. Apart from the fact it would let me off the hook, it might make Joy feel better – I didn’t want to hurt her and felt so bad about the comment.
‘It’s just that Violet told me he had a headache.’ She put her sunglasses back over her eyes, before adding, ‘Like Mummy.’ A shady comment needed shade. She was obviously still smarting from what Ella had told her; I didn’t blame her, who wouldn’t?