Free In the Summertime by Judy Astley Page B

a weekend in Barcelona whereshe’d discovered that Dan, for once in his life pulling the macho ‘I’ll organize everything’ card, had booked them all into one inadequate family room in a truly nasty hotel, in which he’d assumed, staggeringly, that she’d share a bed with him. Still, at least being reacquainted with Dan’s bathroom habits had squashed any guilt she’d occasionally felt about leaving him and depriving the children of a live-in father. As a hygiene role model, she’d told him as they boarded the plane home, frankly she’d do better to shack up with a zoo animal.
    ‘No really, Dan, there isn’t the space. Truly.’
    ‘Well, if you’ve run out of rooms we can always bunk in together, you and me.’ Dan chuckled at her down the phone. Miranda opened the window and took a deep breath of fresh evening air. Did the concept of ‘divorce’ mean nothing to him?
    ‘I don’t think so, Dan, do you? I’ve got Mum here who’s still feeling fragile, Harriet who’s just been dumped by her boyfriend and the children who need entertaining. Sorry, but I don’t want to have to look after you as well. Tell you what,’ she went on quickly before he could think of another weaselly argument, ‘why don’t you have them on their own after we get back? There’ll be another week or two of the summer holidays left. Maybe you could take them somewhere?’
    ‘Gee, thanks. I get palmed off with a few leftover days, do I, while you get them for most of the holidays?Remind me, don’t we have some sort of proper childcare arrangement in force?’
    Through the windscreen, Miranda could see a plane touching down on the runway. She had to get going.
    ‘We do and I’ve never argued about that, as you know. But you also agreed to this trip, for the sake of my mother, remember? And now the children are older they get a say as well, surely? And they really wanted this. Please, Dan, don’t be difficult.’
    ‘But I can’t afford to take them away, not right now.’ No, well you wouldn’t, not while you’re spending most of your life on the sofa eating Pringles, watching Cash in the Attic and wondering why the living the world apparently owes you isn’t actually forthcoming, Miranda managed not to say, saving the thought for possible emergency use later.
    ‘OK. Then how about you have them to stay with you?’ she suggested, switching the engine back on and indicating to pull out.
    ‘Well, you know I would, but Mum finds teenagers a handful,’ he countered.
    ‘Now that I doubt,’ Miranda said, laughing. ‘After all, she manages to cope with you.’ She made the goodbye a swift one, drove the last half-mile to the airport, quickly parked and hurtled into the terminal as the first passengers were coming out.
    ‘Manda! Where were you – I’ve been waiting ages !’ Harriet looked close to stamping her foot withindignation. It was a gesture that would, Miranda immediately thought, go well with the pretty fifties-style lilac full-skirted shirt dress and five-inch wedge shoes she was wearing. She’d always had a great dress-up sense of style and now only lacked a cute pillbox hat and little white gloves.
    Miranda hugged her and she immediately burst into noisy sobs, which meant that Miranda could hardly point out that she knew Harriet hadn’t been waiting – she’d just seen her walk across the tarmac from the plane right that minute.
    ‘Oh, don’t cry, darling,’ she said, patting her gently as if soothing a fallen-down child. ‘It’s all going to be fine, I promise. Now, where’s your luggage?’
    ‘Over there.’ Harriet sniffed and pointed to a carousel on which several large matching pink cases were going round by themselves. Most people had grabbed theirs quickly and already raced out.
    ‘Fine. Shall we get them?’ Miranda didn’t think this was a good sign. Had the footballer’s defection left the girl completely incapable? The indications pointed to ‘yes’. So that would be someone else in