Chapter 16

My heart whacks in my chest as Tom brushes past me, giving me a side glance. I think I'm going to be sick. He knows something. I can almost smell the repulsion on him. But instead of confronting me about whatever Frank showed him on his phone, he tugs Theo's baseball cap, almost knocking his glasses off.

‘All right, pal,' Tom says. Pulling out a chair, he straddles it and then turns to me. ‘It's been lovely today, hasn't it? All of us together. This is what it's all about.' Sighing, he holds his beer bottle aloft and ducks his head. ‘Here's to family and friends – old and new.' I can't read his tone. Does he mean it, or is he being ironic? I take a sip from my glass of GT. It suddenly tastes sour. I want to spit it out.

‘To family and friends,' Theo cheers. I raise my glass, glancing briefly at Frank who is standing on the green a few feet away, legs wide, hips thrust forward. The frayed hem of his blue jeans bright against the vibrant blades of grass kissing his white Nike trainers. Zelda is behind him, a green blur, chatting with the girls.

‘Theo and I were just putting the world to rights. Weren't we, Theo?' I force a smile as my phone buzzes in my pocket. Theo nods slowly, pulls off his cap and ruffles his salt and pepper curls, which have flattened and moistened under his hat. Tom looks forlornly into the middle distance. Perhaps I got it wrong. Not everything is about me. Maybe Frank showed him an image he didn't approve of, like a naked young woman. Tom's a bit prudish about stuff like that, says he wouldn't like old gits drooling over his daughter. My phone buzzes again. It must be Mum. I pull it out of my pocket – an Instagram notification.

‘What happened to your phone,' Tom asks, peering at my cracked screen. I wave a hand; explain how I dropped it in Tesco car park yesterday. Tom rolls his eyes, says they should make them bounce, they cost an arm and a leg, and I agree, tell him I'll get it repaired at the local shop next week.

‘I wish Mum was here,' I say, wistfully, sliding my phone back into my pocket. ‘She'd have loved it.' Filling my lungs with a cocktail of campfire and sweet chilli-grilled meats, I lean my head back and close my eyes, picturing Mum in her hay day cooking burgers and sweetcorn on the barbeque in our backyard. Dad close by on a deckchair studying the afternoon races, fag hanging out of the side of his mouth. I loved it – the summer days – the togetherness – our little perfect family, until Dad destroyed it.

‘Is it okay if I use the little boy's room?' The sound of Frank's voice makes me snap out of my reverie. He's finally going to the loo.

Tom half stands and gestures with his beer. ‘Sure, fella, through the kitchen, straight down the hallway, first on your left.'

‘Cheers, Bro.'

I'm about to offer to show him, which is pretty daft really, we're not in Ikea, he won't get lost going to the loo, when he strides off, whistling under his breath and the opportunity is missed. I shuffle in my chair, feeling restless. I need to think of an excuse to go after him.

‘Nice barbeque. Meat was really tasty, tender,' Theo says, filling the silence. I wait for Tom to praise Daisy for her culinary prowess, but instead, they launch into a discussion about marinating meats. Tom says he infuses it with secret herbs and spices. Yes, Daisy's secret concoction. Theo insists that olive oil and seasoning is all it needs – it's the traditional way. Their voices become a babble of white noise. I can't concentrate. I feel as if I'm sitting on hot coals. I've got to get inside and wait for Frank to come out of the toilet.

‘Here's to many more.' Tom clinks his bottle with Theo's. Ahead, Linda is making her way towards us, wobbling slightly in her heels with every other step.

‘All right, babe.' Linda plants a sloppy kiss on Theo's lips, then turns to me. ‘Just going for a wee.'

Perfect timing. I shoot to my feet. ‘Frank's in there,' I announce, almost reprovingly, and Linda's eyes widen. ‘Use the bathroom upstairs. Actually, I'll come with. I need to go too.' Getting to my feet, I drain my glass while Tom prattles on about never understanding why women have to go to the loo in pairs. I've been waiting for this opportunity all day and it's finally arrived.

The moment we're inside, I inadvertently dig my nails into Linda's flesh and she cringes. Loosening my grip, I say, ‘Go upstairs while I wait for him in the hallway. And give me ten minutes before you come back down.'

‘What am I supposed to do up there for ten fucking minutes? I only need a wee.'

‘Go on TikTok or something.' Linda gives me a look. ‘Linda, please.'

‘Okay, okay,' she says, suddenly sober. The hum of Jailhouse Rock floats in through the open patio doors. Someone's put the music on. Probably Theo's Spotify list. He loves Elvis. He's even got a tattoo of him on his arm. ‘But be careful and remember what I said – nice and easy.'

I nod, anxiety flaring in my stomach. ‘I know what I'm doing.' The sound of a flushing loo drifts along the corridor, followed by the combi boiler thrumming against the wall in the utility room a few feet away. Frank's turned on the hot tap. He's washing his hands. ‘Go,' I urge, heat creeping up the back of my neck. ‘Hurry, before he comes out.' Linda scuttles off, heels click clacking against the kitchen tiles.

From the hallway, there's the familiar click of the lock and then Frank emerges, wiping his wet hands on the hem of his shirt. Slightly taken aback by my presence, he steps to the side to let me pass, a smile on his lips that reaches his eyes, as if there's been no bad blood between us at all.

‘I put the toilet seat down,' he says, and as he goes to walk past, I block him and our eyes lock. This is it, the only chance I'm going to get to wipe him out of our lives.