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“It’s a steam room, Mum. What did you expect?” Charlie failed to temper her frustration. She sensed a movement, and the man opened the door to leave. Steam escaped at his exit, giving them a brief break in the cloud.

“What’s wrong, Charlie? You’re not yourself today. Have you beenoutout again?”

“What do you mean?” Charlie bit her cheek. She hadn’t meant to snap.

“Have you got a hangover? Do you need something sugary?”

Charlie laughed, knowing how many times she’d bounced back with a carb load and a big hug. “No, Mum, I’m not hungover. Sorry. It’s a bit full-on at work, and I’m just tired.”

“It’s not that. Something’s eating at you, Charlotte. I can tell. You can spill the beans now, or you can wait until we’ve had a glass of wine at lunch. Either way, I’ll get it out of you.”

Charlie hadn’t realised that she’d been so transparent. Weighing up her mum’s challenge, she decided it would be much easier to talk without being able to see her face. “There’s a girl.” The heat grew even more intense and sweat poured from her forehead.

“How wonderful. Tell me about her.”

“Don’t get too excited. It’s actually a bit rubbish.”

“Oh, I knew something was up.” Her mum shuffled on the bench. “Wait. I can’t stand the heat anymore, love. Can we get out of here?”

Charlie sighed and followed her mum out to the plunge pool. Setting foot in the ice-cold water shot every nerve in her body into action. She sank below the surface and experienced a momentary breathlessness. The air in her lungs froze in panic. She bobbed back up and gasped, inhaling life back into her body and embracing the adrenaline rush.

In the neighbouring pool, her mum screamed with a blend of fright and pleasure. They clocked each other and giggled.

Charlie put her robe back on and followed her mum to a pair of pool loungers. She laid down, and every muscle relaxed against the foam. A waiter approached.

“A latte for me, please. Charlie?”

“Cucumber water, please.”

“Right then. Catch me up with all this.” Her mum sat up straight, clearly expecting a full debrief.

Charlie took a deep breath. It wasn’t the first time she’d talked to her mum about girls. But usually, she’d throw around a name and gloss over the details. Apart from when they’d talked about Theresa, there had never been any reason to delve too far into her feelings. So she’d always managed to maintain a shield around her most vulnerable parts. But she trusted her mum more than anyone, and there was no reason to hide how she felt. “Her name is Elda. I met her on the way back from your house last time I visited.”

“Really? What a coincidence. Does she live near us?”

“No. I nearly ran her over.” Charlie waved her hand at her mum’s gaping mouth reaction. “That bit isn’t important.”

“But was she hurt?”

“Bless you, Mum. No, she wasn’t hurt that badly, but she did break her arm—or rather, I broke her arm, I suppose.” Charlie adjusted her position on the lounger to get comfortable. “I went to see her to check she was okay. She’s an artist at one of those old mill buildings by the office.”

“How lovely. I would’ve loved to have been an artist. Or married an artist.”

Charlie smiled at the tangent.

“Then what?” Her mum gripped her arm.

“I liked her. I wanted to spend time with her, which has never really happened before. Then she got offered a big job in Paris, and she’s there now.”

“She left you?”

“God, no. We weren’t together. But we could’ve been, I think. It’s a bit of a waste really.”

A pause settled between them. Her mum held the space for Charlie to sink a bit deeper into the loss she felt.

“Oh, Charlie, I haven’t seen you this sad about anyone for a long time. She must be quite special.”

“She is. Who knows, maybe our paths will cross again? It just wasn’t the right time for us.”