Luna pulled Bonzer up onto her lap, her little eyebrows scrunching up tight. ‘I liked our old life.’
Izzy had too. Once.
‘I know Looney. But life comes in all different shapes and sizes and we’re trying on a new one. C’mon. Bonzer loves walking to school.’
‘No he doesn’t! He hates it too.’ Izzy’s daughter blinked away her tears, the tightly cuddled, increasingly large Bonzer masking the bulk of her expression. ‘The other kids won’t make friends with me.’
Izzy’s heart contracted. Sugar.
She knew that feeling. Thanks to her own mother’s wandering ways, she’d been in more than her share of new schools. She’d played the chameleon to make things easier, hence the weird accent. It had worked to an extent, but she hadn’t wanted that life for Luna. It was one of the reasons why she’d set up the surf school. Best-laid plans and all that.
She gave her head a scrub, trying to clear away yesteryear so that she could focus on the here and now.
School.
Mrs Jones, the head teacher at Luna’s new school, had seemed lovely; an experienced, Welsh earth-mother who’d welcomed Luna with open arms.
‘You can tell the other pupils all about what Hawaii is like. I don’t think we’ve ever had a child who’s lived on an island in the Pacific before, how exciting!’
Izzy had convinced herself that the wonderful Mrs Jones and Luna’s equally nice teacher would make everything all right, while she went about the increasingly urgent task of finding a job.
Izzy swept her daughter’s curls to one side and planted a kiss on her forehead.
‘Sometimes it takes a little while to make friends, Boo Boo. They’ll love you every bit as much as I do.’ They wouldn’t. ‘Just give it a bit more time.’
‘One of the boys laughed at the way I said tomato at lunch time,’ Luna sniffed, burying her head in Bonzer’s ample fluff.
Song lyrics wafted across Izzy’s brain, ‘You say tom-ay-to, I say tom-ah-to …’
‘He’s probably just jealous. You’re a world traveller and he probably hasn’t even been to Cardiff.’ She resisted the temptation to hurl insults at the little blighter. Mocking her daughter. How very dare he?
‘I don’t wanna go.’ Luna’s bottom lip was still projecting into the room but Izzy could sense her daughter’s resolve waning.
‘Here baby. Why don’t you wear this?’ She handed her a ratty old tutu. Luckily it fitted over the insipid grey uniform.
Luna tugged it on then gave her hand a squeeze. They still held hands. Izzy was already scared for the day when she might not want to any more. ‘Are we poor?’
‘Poor? Us? No. Why do you ask?’ They weren’t actually. They were simply living … thriftily. It was important. She’d been given a couple of unexpected gifts in life – a savings account she hadn’t realized her mother had been keeping for her and, of course, Ash Cottage from the father she’d never met. Izzy tried not to think about how long the money her mother had left her would last, but it wouldn’t be for ever. She’d never been one to think about the future. Other people did that. She was more of an in-the-moment kinda gal, but this time there was no getting away from it: she’d have to get a job.
‘Some of the kids were saying because we moved from Hawaii to here it must mean that we’re poor.’
Izzy looked out of the window and laughed. Today was a rare sunny day. Apart from the insanely beautiful May bank holiday with Charlotte and the gang (chocolate cake would never be the same again), they’d pretty much enjoyed grey, drizzly, British seaside weather every day. Not that they were anywhere near the sea. The village itself was perfectly serviceable, but heaven knew why her mother and father had picked it. It was near absolutely nothing. Perhaps that had been the point. On Maui everything felt close. In a good way. The twenty-mile drive to Cardiff – or ten to the sea – seemed crazy long after living on an island you could circumnavigate in under two hours. Or maybe it was the constant fear that her van would break down and they’d be stranded. Friendless. With no one to call. She thought of Freya’s invite to go camping and Emily’s regular check-ins. No one within one hundred miles, anyway.
Her daughter was still looking at her expectantly.
‘I can see where they’re coming from, Booboo. Hawaii was pretty amazing, but they’ve got castles here. And … umm … other things. We’re good. Don’t you worry about that.’
‘Then why did we move?’
It was a good question. And one she really didn’t want to answer.
‘To be near friends.’ It wasn’t entirely a lie.
‘But … Auntie Emms lives in London and Freya does too and Charlotte’s getting divorced.’
Izzy squatted down and swept her daughter’s hair away from her eyes. ‘You don’t miss much, do you? Look, just because Charlotte’s getting a divorce doesn’t mean we aren’t going to see her again. In fact we’ll probably see more of her.’
‘Good.’ Izzy grinned. ‘Bonzer likes her.’ She scooped up Bonzer with a grunt and patted his huge paw on Izzy’s cheek. ‘Bonzer loves ice cream.’
‘Well, isn’t that lucky?’ Izzy pulled them both in for a cuddle. ‘There just happens to be an ice cream shop on the way home from school.’
‘Still don’t wanna go.’
‘Loons.’ Izzy held up her hand and showed four fingers. ‘School breaks up in this many. If you finish the rest of the week, how about we jump into the van and drive up to meet Freya and Charlotte on their crazy wild camping trip?
Luna’s blue eyes lit up instantly. ‘Really? Can we bring Bonzer?’
‘Of course we can!’ Izzy crossed her fingers behind her back, desperately trying to remember if Freya had said he was welcome. His incarceration at Sittingstone Castle had led to meeting Charlotte’s new mentor, Lady Venetia, but losing Looney for the two hours before the dowager countess had discovered both child and dog asleep in the castle kennels had scared the living daylights out of her. No chance she was going through that again. If the worst came to the worst, she’d stick Bonzer in a pair of cargoes and vest and pretend he was her husband.
‘Yay!’ Luna jumped up and down, her long, coiled hair flying around her head like a whirling dervish.
‘Right, time to get dressed!’
As Luna ran upstairs to her room, Izzy spied the letter she’d tucked behind the fruit bowl, away from little girl eyes. Every time she caught a glimpse of it she shrank a little, knowing the longer she ignored it, the worse things might be. Or better. There was always a possibility.
She looked around her at the cottage, its patches of peeling plaster, its lack of central heating, the damp that seemed to permeate the whole house even though summer had well and truly arrived.
It hadn’t even occurred to her to sell it as,
