and loping away, trying to look like a real dude. Emily scrunched up her nose at Holly to show how sweet she thought he was.
Holly laughed.
‘So what are you going to do with it? The van? Do you rent it out?’
Holly walked over to join her next to the window and the little shelf that had flower pots of cutlery and blossom twigs in jam jars on it. ‘I don’t know really, as Julian said, I’ve only just got it out from beside the boathouse. It took the whole day to scrub it down. I have no idea what I’m going to do with it.’
‘I’ll hire it.’
‘What for?’ Holly frowned.
‘You know my mum’s getting married. Again. In the South of France. She'd go nuts for this van. Like totally nuts. She loves ice cream.’ Emily walked round to the front and traced her hands over the little round vintage headlights, ‘Weirdly, her favourite flavour is vanilla. Who has vanilla as their favourite flavour?’
‘I like Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra,’ shouted Julian from where he was packing up his bag.
‘Oh god!’ Emily giggled and shook her head. ‘I’m old enough to be your mother, so stop flirting.’
Emily Hunter-Brown founder and CEO of EHB Cosmetics, was best known to the public as the girl left at the altar by Hollywood megastar Giles Fox. Branded by the paparazzi as a romantically-doomed, eternally-single party-girl, Holly and Annie knew her because she’d been at school with them for a year after being expelled from a flash boarding school in London. Her father had died when they were little, leaving more debt than money, and their mother had subsequently married a variety of very rich, very old men who kept them in the manner to which they’d become accustomed, but some were nicer than others. For their few years on the island, they’d lived in the old manor house on the other side from the boathouse, near the new-build estate. It was an old Georgian building with sprawling grounds and an east and west wing.
The year that Emily had been at school with them had been the funniest, naughtiest year they’d known. She was like this bright burst of flame; a devil-may-care, live-for-the-moment, try-anything-once-kinda girl with an infectious, dirty laugh and a face like a pixie.
‘How’s your brother?’ Annie asked as Emily finished inspecting the van and came back to stand with Holly.
‘Oh Wilf’s the same as always. Gallivanting around. I don't see him that often at the moment. He came to the island though, with me the other month when The Rolling Stones were recording. We had so much fun, didn’t we, Holly?’
Holly, whose heart had started beating really loudly in her ears at the mention of Wilf, nodded as casually as she could.
Emily paused and seemed to study her more closely. ‘I thought you and Wilf seemed to get on particularly well, Hols.’
‘Not really.’ Holly shook her head, knowing she’d said it too quickly. She felt Annie glance up from the tea she was making and look her way.
‘Yeah you did, I thought you looked very cosy in the pub,’ Emily winked.
Holly shrugged. Annie’s mouth started to open.
But they were interrupted by a shout behind them. The kids, who were meant to be washing down boats, putting blades away and generally tidying up, had all got bored and started throwing sponges at each other and flicking water from their water bottles.
‘Stop it!’ Matt, who had dried himself off and was now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, shouted again as he got sprayed with water meant for Julian.
On the river the last two boats were racing, storming down side by side as all the spectators in Alan’s hospitality tent were roaring drunkenly. The kids paused their water-fight to stop and watch and Matt cupped his hands together to cheer for the losing Cherry Pie team. Holly watched her dad cycle down the tow-path, red-faced and shouting furiously at his crew. Emily, completely uninterested in the racing, kicked off her boots and bent to pick them up, ‘My feet are killing me. Holly, listen, I’m serious about hiring out the van. My mum’s been looking for something like this for ages but the idea of sorting it from France - nightmare! Her theme is all boho chic and she wants all these little vintage touches. We’ve been collecting bloody jam jars for yonks for the flowers - I had to carry them over in my suitcase last time I went over there. If they’d stopped me at customs they'd have thought I was nuts. This couldn’t be more perfect because she adored Enid and this would tie it all up so brilliantly. She’d probably love to have you there too, she always thought you were marvellous. Much better than me,’ she laughed, ‘Come on, how would it work? Who would drive it? Would I drive it? I’m a terrible driver.’
Holly shook her head. ‘Emily, I have no idea. I’m not even really hiring it out.’
‘Will Wilf be at the wedding?’ Annie asked, not really taking her eyes off Holly.
Emily nodded, ‘Definitely, he’s just invested in a bar with my mum’s new husband.’
Annie looked pointedly at Holly, ‘You should do it, Hols. You should go with Emily.’
Holly ignored her.
‘I’ll pay you. What are you thinking, cost wise? You name it, I’ll double whatever you’re thinking if I can make this happen.’ Emily looked at Holly, her face serious, as if she’d suddenly snapped into business mode.
Holly watched Annie lean down at the window and wait to listen to what Holly would say. She knew Holly needed money. She had no steady job, she’d taken the last seven months off and had very little savings left. Now she was about to have a baby to support and only the minimum government maternity allowance to do it with.
‘I don’t know,’ Holly said in the end. Behind her she could hear Matt shout again as the kids started to chuck water at each other again, ‘If you lot spray me again, I’ll put the hose on you. Julian! I’m warning you.’
‘I really think you should, Hol,’ Annie said, eyebrows raised.
‘Why are you using that tone of voice, Annie?’ Emily asked. ‘Is this to do with Wilf? Holly, did something happen with you and Wilf, because you know I thought something did and I asked him and he said that nothing happened, which is unusual for him, but I was sure something happened. Did something happen?’
‘No.’ Holly shook her head. ‘Nothing happened.’
But as she said it, she was caught in the midst of the full-blown water-fight that had broken out between the juniors and Matt, who had just turned the hose on full force.
‘Oh my god!’ Holly held her hands up against the water.
A second later, they were all dripping. Emily’s bare legs and the hem of her denim dress were soaked. Annie’s choppy blonde fringe was flattened to her head. But Holly had got the brunt of it and was wet from head to toe. Auburn hair darkened to black, skin glowing with water, eyelashes all clumped together, black leggings wet through and baggy white T-shirt now see-through and sticking to her body.
Anyone who was looking would notice, before she turned away to grab her sweatshirt, that she was probably about three months’ pregnant. And, of course, Emily was looking.
‘Oh Jesus,’ Emily said as Holly stood there, trying to get
