‘Looks like Mummy’s in charge now,’ said Amy, ruffling Tilly’s hair. ‘Why don’t we do the play outside on the lawn? It’s much too nice out here to be stuck inside the pool house.’
‘Yes! Yes!’ said Tilly, jumping up and down. Amy smiled to herself, remembering how primary school teachers had pulled the same trick down the years, making sitting on the grass seem like a real treat.
‘Let’s go and get Hettie and the props,’ said Amy. ‘So if you’re Red Riding Hood, can I be the Big Bad Wolf?’
‘Oh no,’ said Tilly, suddenly serious. ‘Daddy is the Big Bad Wolf.’
It was a long play. Both Tilly and Hettie wanted to play the lead role, leading to a protracted negotiation that was only resolved when Amy suggested there should be two Red Riding Hoods, twin sisters who both needed to visit Grandma’s house on urgent business. There was another hitch when David’s turn as the Big Bad Wolf was cut short by Max calling him out to the pool, but it was the big finale involving all the girls’ stuffed toys singing a rousing chorus of ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ that took up most of the time. The song had to be rerun four or five times so that various teddies didn’t miss their chance in the limelight. It was, however, a lot of fun lolling about there on the sunny lawn, and after the first ten minutes, Amy had allowed herself to relax into her role as stagehand and chief cheerleader. It was wonderful to watch the kids interacting with each other. Once they’d settled on a pecking order, they played nicely, laughing, teasing, making up crazy jokes that only made sense if you were under ten. Why couldn’t adults get along so easily?
Amy left the children to get a snack while she walked back to the pool, stretching after too long bent-backed on the ground. Max was leaning back in his chair, see-sawing back and forth on two legs in the manner that universally drove teachers mad.
‘How’s the shoot going?’ she asked.
‘Great, great. Josie’s a natural.’
Amy looked across to where Josie was emerging from the water wearing a green bikini, the sun glimmering on the droplets on her skin. Willem the photographer was peering into his camera and calling out encouragement. ‘Yes! Yes! More of that! Now look over your shoulder and wave. Higher arm! Higher!’
‘Isn’t she gorgeous?’ said Max. ‘And don’t they make a lovely couple?’
‘Couple?’
Amy looked beyond Josie and for the first time noticed David, who was wearing ludicrous red Bermuda shorts and waving at Josie.
‘Hang on, David’s in the shoot now?’
‘Just background shots,’ said Max, shrugging. ‘The punters like to see a family set-up.’
Willem looked up from his camera. ‘Day-vid, can you please look as if you’re happy to see her? Look, she’s wearing her new bikini.’
Amy watched as David gave a wider smile. He was usually uncomfortable having his photo taken, but he seemed to be enjoying this.
‘Josie, smooth your hair back and walk towards David,’ called Willem, the camera motor whirring. ‘That’s it, more slinky, more sex. Now touch his shoulder, like he’s teasing you.’
Mesmerised, Amy watched the scene, this tableau of the fake couple at play around the swanky pool. Only it didn’t look fake. It looked real, David and Josie, the handsome older man and his sexy cellulite-free trophy wife.
‘All right,’ shouted Max, clapping his hands. ‘That’ll do. We’ll bring the kids in for the next one.’
‘The kids?’ said Amy. ‘I hope you don’t mean Tilly.’
‘Don’t worry, they won’t be in shot – well, not really. Just cavorting about blurred in the background.’
‘No, Max,’ said Amy firmly, not sure she wanted her daughter all over Max’s company’s promo material. ‘It’s enough that you’ve co-opted my husband.’
‘Don’t you want to help my business, Amy?’ said Max, in a ridiculous sing-song voice.
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘Max, we both know that I have done a great deal to help Quinn, as has Juliet, as have all your friends.’
He couldn’t deny it. The brand had received a huge amount of free editorial space from both Verve and Living Style down the years, not to mention the two women putting in a good word with other journalists and editor friends. But it was typical of Max to demand more and more, a sulky little boy with a quivering lip who stamped his foot whenever anyone said no.
‘David was keen!’ he said. ‘He wanted to do it!’
‘And I suppose you twisting his arm had nothing to do with it?’
‘I may have twisted a little, but he’s an adult. He can make his own decisions.’
‘Not when it comes to Tilly. Not without my say-so. That’s how it works when you’re married.’
‘Mummy?’ Tilly was pulling at her sleeve, but Amy was intent on venting her anger on Max.