I hugged him close. I wanted to cry, to hold him forever and just sob with relief, but I also had to stop him from doing this ever again and so channelled my tears into stern words once he’d recovered slightly.
‘Alfie, that was so naughty,’ I said, removing my wet T shirt and jeans and taking a towel from Joy. ‘You could have really hurt yourself, and Mummy’s very cross.’ I frowned to make my feelings clear.
‘Told you we should have gone inside for gin,’ Joy said under her breath. She was white with shock as I’m sure I was too.
‘Yep, you were right, Joy,’ I murmured back.
‘So, Alfie, what have we just learned?’ Joy asked gently.
‘Not to get wet?’ His little chin was trembling – it had scared him.
‘I think what Granny means is you just learned that you must never jump into the water like that without a grown-up there, or your armbands on. It’s too deep. You won’t ever do that again, will you, Alfie?’ I added.
He shook his head vigorously. I just hoped it had scared him enough to be careful, but not so much he wouldn’t want to go near water ever again.
‘I think we should all go inside, so you can choose your beds,’ Joy said to the kids, once Alfie and I had taken off our clothes and were wrapped in towels. In that moment, I was grateful to have Joy around, even if she did take over a little. Within minutes, the children were racing up the stairs, Alfie’s near-death experience forgotten. By him at least.
‘Hold Freddie’s hand tight on them stairs,’ Bob called to Violet from the landing where he and Dan were still sorting the luggage.
‘Those stairs, darling,’ Joy corrected, as Violet negotiated Freddie up the steps, Alfie following on, as my motherin-law and I watched from the bottom of the stairs.
Bob rolled his eyes at me and I smiled. ‘You and Alfie been for a swim already?’ Bob asked, looking from me to Alfie. Joy and I watched on from the hallway and glanced at each other.
‘Don’t ask, Bob.’ I smiled.
‘Yes, let’s put it this way, it’s gin time for Clare and Daddy time for our Dan,’ Joy laughed, leading me into the sitting room.
I just hoped Dan would supervise the chaos and arguments that were bound to happen when the kids reached the top of the stairs and one wanted the other one’s chosen bed. Bob didn’t have the speed or stamina to handle that, but Joy wasn’t fretting, she’d handed our charges to ‘the men’ and was now settling in an armchair with her glass. She’d put mine on a coaster on a little tray table next to the chair nearest to her, and I plonked myself down, still wrapped in a big grey towel, taking the ice-cold gin gratefully.
‘How is everything?’ she asked, conspiratorially.
‘Good,’ I answered quickly. I wanted to embrace the holiday feeling and forget about our recent troubles. Joy liked to poke her nose in, but really it was only because she worried about us all.
‘You and Dan just ask us if you want to escape to a bar or something,’ she said, nodding slowly. ‘And Jamie’s arriving tomorrow,’ she added. ‘I can’t wait to see him, we haven’t spoken for weeks.’
‘But you’re keeping up with his Instagram?’ I said. I also followed Jamie and knew he’d recently been in India. I sometimes messaged him, but not for a while. Life was too busy.
‘Yes, looks like he’s having a whale of a time,’ she said, smiling at the thought of her youngest son. ‘You haven’t seen him since Christmas have you; the three of you have lots to catch up on. Bob and I can keep an eye on the children if you three would like a night out one evening?’
‘Yes, that would be nice,’ I said. It was nice to get together, just the three of us without Joy or Bob. We could talk about anything and everything and we always had a laugh.
One year when we were in Spain and I’d just had Violet, the three of us went to a nightclub and left her with Joy and Bob. We enjoyed each other’s company and made a point of getting together on these family holidays and family Christmases. Despite some brotherly competition and ‘banter’， as they called it, Dan and his brother got along, and I enjoyed spending time with them both. Jamie could be lazy, staying in bed until noon and never helping with meals or washing up, but he was good with the kids, and when he did eventually get up, he had lots of energy – something poor old Bob didn’t have too much of any more.
I always worried the kids were a bit much for Bob. The previous summer, we’d gone to the South of France and when Violet asked to see the sunflowers in a nearby field, Bob had offered to take her and Alfie. I was more than a bit concerned Alfie might run off and Bob would be so distracted by what they were looking at that he’d not realise he was a child down. My only hope was that Violet, then eight, would keep an eye on her three-year-old brother. I remember I couldn’t relax until they were back and found myself actually surprised when they all wandered up the hill to the villa, Alfie on Bob’s shoulders, Violet chatting away, all three of them smiling.