That doesn’t mean he’ll never come back to France. And it’ll mean
we
get to spend all our holidays
here
. Heaps better than horrid summer camp, if you ask me.’
Max looked at him darkly, his hands dug deep in his pockets. ‘You really think Maman’s going to let us fly out to England and spend the holidays with Dad?’
Louis could feel his chin jutting out defensively. ‘She might—’
‘Oh,
come on
!’ Max exclaimed angrily. ‘She doesn’t even want us to spend a weekend with him once a month in Paris!’
Louis threw a stone as hard as he could. It skimmed the water three times. He didn’t want to look at Max. ‘So what are you saying?’
‘What I’m saying is – Dad must have lost the court case.’
A sliver of shock shot through Louis’ stomach. He threw another stone.
There was a long silence. Max stared at Louis’ face. Then, ‘Oh my God, you knew,’ he breathed.
Louis scrabbled around for more stones. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about—’
‘Oh my God, you
knew
!’ Suddenly Louis felt himself shoved backwards and slammed down against the hard ground, Max’s fingers twisting the collar of his T-shirt, his fist against Louis’ throat.
‘Tell me everything, right now, or I’ll swear I’ll punch you—’
‘OK, OK!’ Louis held up his hands. He had never seen Max so angry. For the first time in his life, Louis actually felt afraid of his older brother.
With a furious shove, Max let go of Louis’ collar and Louis sat up, breathing hard. ‘Jesus, Max, there’s no need to—’
‘You tell me everything, right now, or I swear to God . . .’ Max’s eyes were flashing, the colour high in his cheeks.
‘You’ve got to promise not to tell Millie. Dad made me promise not to tell either of you, and—’
‘OK, OK!’
Louis took a deep, shuddering breath. The sun had disappeared behind a cloud. ‘You guessed right,’ he said in a rush. ‘Dad lost the court case and Mum won. He’s only allowed supervised visits with us from now on. But he’s going to—’
Max had grabbed him by the collar again. ‘How do you know? Who told you?’
‘I overheard Dad on the phone!’
‘When?’
‘The night before we left!’
Max whistled under his breath, slowly remembering. ‘So that’s when you . . . when we were playing Cluedo, and you came out of the kitchen and you’d been crying—’
‘I wasn’t crying,’ Louis said quickly, but Max didn’t appear to hear him. His face darkened.
‘So that’s why Dad’s moving to England? Because he lost the court case?’
‘I don’t know,’ Louis said. ‘It doesn’t make sense. He said he was going to appeal. He promised, Max! Maybe the farmhouse really
is
just a holiday home. Maybe he wants to do it up so he can prove to Mum that he’s not ill any more and she’ll trust him to look after us . . .’
But Max was looking away, shaking his head in disgust. ‘Don’t be so bloody naïve. He won’t be appealing if he’s moving to England. He must just be hoping to start his life over and meet some new woman—’
‘You don’t know that!’ Louis felt his voice rising. ‘He wouldn’t do that! He would never give us up! He promised me – he said everything was going to be all right!’
‘Those are just words,’ Max scoffed. ‘You were blubbing like a baby and he just wanted to shut you up—’
Louis jumped to his feet and started to climb back up the hillside towards the bikes.
Max started to follow him. ‘Hey, Louis, I’m sorry. Come on, calm down.’
Louis ignored him and kept on going, digging his nails into the soft earth to aid his ascent, the growing burn in his calf muscles a useful antidote to the pain inside his mind.
The next day, the beds arrived, and Louis and Millie helped Dad erect them in the bedrooms. They did Millie’s first, and when it was done, she was so pleased with it that she turned somersaults on the fresh bouncy mattress.
‘I want to paint my walls pink,’ she