Daisy Tate - The Happy Glampers

Charlotte cleared her throat. ‘It really was lovely of you all to make the effort to come early. The big do was Oli’s idea, but mostly I wanted to see you girls. Catch up on your news.’

‘Which perfectly leads us to the question on everybody’s mind,’ Freya said, rather grandly.

Emily glanced behind her, as if the question was tiptoeing in from the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. ‘What question?’

Poor Emms. She hated questions. Her mother relentlessly peppered her with them. It had been the only reason Emily had been allowed a phone at uni. So that her mother could send texts demanding updates on her daughter’s academic progress and promises of sexual abstinence. Polar opposite to her mum. There’d been times Izzy had been quite jealous of Emily and her mum. There’d been times when she’d been jealous of each and every one of them. Even Little Miss I’m Still Jelly That You Shagged My Husband sitting across from her. Freya topped up her glass again. Maybe she should slow down on her one-woman attempt to drink all of Oli’s fancy wine.

‘Right! What’s this question of yours then, Freya?’

Freya sat up straighter, as if psyching herself up, then asked in one of those ‘not at all casual but meant to be’ tones, ‘How did Luna come into your life, Izz?’

‘The usual way.’ She almost pointed to her lady garden, but as Charlotte was there she made a bulging tummy gesture instead.

‘And the father is?’ Freya’s eyes jumped between hers and Emily’s, rightly suspecting that Emily already knew.

Emily shrugged. She was the best liar.

Izzy was less gifted, so she threw Freya a smattering of facts. ‘He was a surfer. Surprise surprise. We met in Morocco. He was a bit of a player. I found out I was pregnant after he’d left to chase some waves in Bali and … that’s about it.’

Freya, strangely, looked rather relieved. As if the fact that Luna was the product of a one-night stand in Morocco had settled a bet she’d made with herself.

‘Do you know his name?’ Charlotte asked, just a tiny bit horrified.

‘Course! It’s a bit dorky, though. Sounds much better in his accent.’

‘Oh!’ Charlotte clapped, her eyes softening. ‘He’s foreign. I always thought that would be so exotic. To have a husband with an accent.’

‘And his name is …?’

‘Alfred.’

‘Oh!’

The table fell silent. Like she’d said. Dorky.

‘Did you ever see him again? The father?’

She shook her head no. She had actually. From a distance. At a surfing festival on Maui, where pretty much everyone but her and Alf had been in their twenties and high as a kite. He hadn’t seen her. Or Luna. One look at those eyes and he would’ve known. They were his. All his. If she’d known then what she knew today, she just might have braved it, but … regrets and all that.

‘I think he’s back in Denmark. Not a hundred per cent sure.’

She was. She’d googled him. Once a year she let herself, on Luna’s birthday. Her way of checking in. It had taken a few years, but he was back in Denmark, behaving like a responsible adult. Just as her own father had when her mother had shooed him out the door to return to his wife and children in Sweden. Anyhoo …

She faked a massive yawn. ‘Ladies, I am afraid I am going to have to turn in. I still haven’t shaken the jet lag, so if you don’t mind?’

They all said they didn’t, though it was easy to see Charlotte and Freya wished she’d told them more. Just before she got up, she felt Emily’s hand creep into her lap and grab her hand for a quick squeeze.

The gesture spoke volumes. I love you. I’m glad you’re here. One day you’re going to have to tell them .

Soon enough she’d tell them, but tonight? Tonight she was totally happy to let everyone think she was the same ol’ Dizzy Izzy.

Emily flushed the toilet and called out to Izzy who was brushing her teeth. ‘I can’t believe how civilized this feels. Flushing!’

She joined Izzy at the long, low butler’s sink, turned on the tap and smiled at Izzy’s reflection in the mirror. It was good to see her looking every bit the surfer girl she had emblazoned in her memory. Neither of them were Facebookers or Instagrammers, so her imagination had gone to some very dark places.

‘You all right?’

‘Mmm,’ Izzy said, after spitting out her toothpaste.

‘You know she doesn’t mean it, right?’

‘Who?’

‘Freya. The narkiness.’

‘Oh,’ Izzy said, then, ‘Yeah, I know.’

She finished brushing her own teeth then gave her face a quick wash.

Emily didn’t like it when Izzy fell silent. When it came to expressing what they really felt, neither of them were talkers, but Izzy was the queen of babbling on about anything and everything. Like a toddler. Not talking about anything at all? Not a good sign.

It had to be The Other Thing.

After they’d walked back past the kitchen tent where Freya and Charlotte were herding their children away from the cake tins, Emily grabbed Izzy in a loose headlock.

‘You. Me,’ Emily said to the big ball of curly half-fro in her face. ‘Talky talky.’

Izzy squirmed against her, then nuzzled into Emily’s neck and made purring noises. That was more like it. The Izzy she knew and loved. ‘I don’t wanna!’

Emily shook her off. ‘We have to. For Luna.’ She felt like a bitch for adding that part, but … needs must and all that.

Izzy’s shoulders slumped. The gesture of defeat felt like a sucker punch. It wasn’t like Emily wanted to have the talk. Or be the grown-up. She was as rattled by everything as Izzy was.

‘Tomorrow? Later? We can meet in London. Talk then. Once I’ve got all of the paperwork together,’ Izzy pleaded.

‘Isn’t it in the van? I thought you said you had everything with you.’

Izzy shrunk another few centimetres. ‘Most of it. I just … C’mon, Emms. I don’t want the girls to accidentally see. Or Luna.’

Both good points. Even so. Emily jabbed at the air between them. ‘You’re not leaving here without the two of us coming up with a proper plan.’

‘I have a plan. It’s a good plan.’

‘It’s not a good plan. Nor does it seem to involve Alf.’

Izzy fuzzed her lips. ‘Why should it?’

‘He’s the father of your child, idiot.’

That got Izzy’s back up. ‘He doesn’t even know her!’

‘So maybe now’s as good a time as any to change that. Go for a weekend. Take a city break.’

‘Yeah, right. Oh, hi Alf! Remember that night on the beach ten years ago with the girl with the big hair? Look! We made a mini us. Copenhagen’s brill! Should we go see the mermaid?’ She looked out towards the castle. ‘Besides. There’d be no one to look after Bonzer.’

Emily’s shoulders scrunched up to her ears in frustration. ‘What’s up with the elephant puppy, anyway?’

‘Luna’s pretty wobbly about things.’ She held up a hand so Emily would let her finish. ‘About leaving Hawaii. Starting in a new school. Not knowing anyone. I decided we needed a comfort dog.’

The two of them were going to need a damn sight more than a dopey-faced therapy puppy if things didn’t go according to Izzy’s so-called plan.

When they reached Emily’s yurt, Izzy gave her a kiss on the bonce, filling Emily’s nostrils with that crazy almond vanilla scent of hers. ‘Night night, Dr Cheung.’

Emily made a show of wiping off the kiss and waved goodbye without looking back.

When she got into the tent and began to undress, she shivered. It was chilly enough that, for the first time in a long while, she actually wanted a good old-fashioned cuddle.