Free Never Ending by Martyn Bedford

voices from one of the tavernas, where a TV was showing a football match.
    “What did you think of that guy on the boat?” Declan asked, suddenly.
    Shiv shot him a look. Had he seen them talking? “Which guy?”
    “You know, Nikos. The snorkelling guy.”
    “Oh, right.” Shiv shrugged. “OK, I guess. Why?”
    “Nothing,” her brother said.
    His expression gave nothing away and, as they continued to the end of the beach, he showed no interest in pursuing the topic. Shiv was glad to let it drop too. In any case, they’d reached the clutter of rocks beneath the promontory separating that bay from the next.
    The whole time they were scrambling, Shiv and Declan barely spoke, each absorbed in their own thoughts. A gap had opened between them. They were too old for this. She was anyway. It only struck her, now they’d got there, that she’d grown out of playing with her kid brother among the rock pools.
    Back at the sunloungers, Mum gave Declan some money and sent him off to buy ice creams. Shiv sat in the shade of one of the parasols and took out her phone. Katy had sent a text since the last time she’d checked – ate too much chocolate! am fat n sick but mostly fat xxx – but there was nothing new from Laura. Shiv started a reply to Katy.
    Mum worked the lotion into her shoulders and the back of her neck. “Can you do my back please, Shiv?”
    “I’m texting.”
    “Over to you then, love.”
    Dad sat behind Mum on the lounger, spraying lotion on his palms. “When my sensual touch gets you all flustered, try to remember we’re in a public place.”
    “Dad, please ,” Shiv said. “That’s just too—”
    “Hey, guys –” this was Declan – “look who I just bumped into in the shop.”
    Shiv glanced up. Dec held four ice creams, leaking over his bunched fists. Beside him, in a blue-and-white basketball top and blue swimming shorts, was Nikos.

5
    “Hi, everyone,” Assistant Sumner says, with the forced enthusiasm of a children’s TV presenter. “Welcome to your very first Talk.”
    Room S-10, second floor.
    Sumner is the one who smiled too much at Dr Pollard’s introductory briefing last night. She wore her frizzy blond hair down that time; this afternoon it’s fastened in a ponytail. The tan is as fake as ever. She can’t be much older than twenty-five.
    The chairs are arranged in a circle. Clockwise around the room are Assistant Sumner, Lucy, Caron, Shiv, Helen and Docherty. No Mikey.
    Shiv tries not to think about his sister. Phoebe. Feebs.
    S-10 is garish, the light from the window behind Sumner accentuating the orangey-red carpet and buttercup-yellow walls. It’s like the decor of a pre-school, only without the childish pictures and scattered toys. The chairs are purple, comfortable, in a school common-room kind of way. In the centre, a low table is set out with a plastic jug of iced water and six plastic glasses.
    Sumner asks about Walk and Make and earns a few non-committal responses.
    She nods, as though they were words of profound wisdom. “OK, I know what you’re all thinking.” She leans forward, her gaze touring the circle. “You’re thinking –” she puts on an anxious face and makes her voice go wobbly – “‘Ooer, I don’t know what happens at Talk.’”
    “Can we have three guesses?” Caron says.
    Sumner continues to smile. She hasn’t stopped since they came in and it has become unnerving. “How it works,” she says, ignoring or possibly not registering the sarcasm, “is we sit in silence until someone feels moved to speak. Once they finish, others may respond. Then we wait for the next ‘Speaking’. And so on and so fifth.”
    So fifth . It’s the sort of jokey thing Dad would say.
    “Speak about what?” This time it’s Lucy.
    “Whatever grabs you.” Sumner mimes grabbing. She smiles. “So long as it’s related to your reason for being here.”
    “ Group therapy , then.” Caron doesn’t bother to hide her disdain.
    Shiv knows where Caron is coming