Page 21 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure

As the page appeared, Mary hadn’t a clue what she was supposed to be looking at.

She flicked through photos of Atticus with flamingos and a giant hoarding of a black bull.

But as Mary stared at a group of colourful, suntanned people, she could see them having a high old time at a barbecue.

A woman with vibrant orange hair piled into a top knot and wearing a lime-green kaftan had her arms around her father, who was wearing the cowboy hat she’d gifted him.

On the other side of them, a tattooed lady, covered in piercings, was linking Atticus’s arm.

Mary began to laugh, her eyes wide as she saw Ness sitting on a fold-up chair with a massive sausage in her mouth. Another image showed her father in a conga line, dancing along a lantern-lit pathway.

‘You think it’s funny?’ Mungo asked.

‘Is it really our dad?’ Mary asked, stifling another giggle.

‘Oh, there’s more. Keep going, turn to the video feed.’

Mary pressed play, and to the background music from several ukuleles, a guitar, and a drum, Atticus took centre stage as he duetted Islands in the Stream with the orange-haired woman. He held a glass of sangria in his hand and, to cheers, downed the drink in one as the song ended.

‘I think it’s absolutely wonderful,’ Mary laughed. ‘He’s finally come out of his comfort zone and is enjoying himself.’

She continued to scroll through images of a brightly coloured awning and a tall, athletic man, wearing a huge gold watch which dazzled against his dark skin, smiling as he posed with Atticus in a selfie beside Winnie.

Her Dad was clearly making new friends, but somewhat faster than she’d ever imagined.

‘But he’s seventy years old, in a strange place with people who might take advantage!’ Mungo’s voice was raised, and Mary sighed, knowing she was in for an argument.

‘Did you know that he has over six thousand followers, all of the boomer generation, from all over the world? And the numbers seem to be increasing,’ Mungo droned on.

Mary did indeed know now and was fascinated by the hundreds of comments Atticus was receiving. Fancy that! Her dad was going viral – just wait until she told Maeve!

‘Well, that has to be a good thing, right?’ Mary was puzzled.

‘I hardly think it will do the family business any good if people see the head of it drunk as a skunk, on a permanent bender with a crowd who look as though they’re performing in a circus.’

Mary sighed. What was wrong with her brother, and when had he become such an old man? She thought of their mother and her infamous words: Don’t let the old man in . Mungo had let the old man in long before his time, but in Spain, Atticus seemed hell-bent on letting the old man out!

‘Listen to me, Mungo. Will you just get over yourself?’ Mary said. ‘Dad is clearly enjoying himself. Can’t you be pleased that he’s having a great holiday?’

‘I knew you’d stick up for him.’

‘Yes, I damn well will. And for Jake.’ Mary felt cross now. ‘I hear you’ve grounded him, and for the life of me, I cannot see why.’

‘Because he went behind my back.’

‘Oh, stop it!’ Mary’s tone was sharp. ‘ Jake was helping his grandad. He knew Atticus was going on this journey, with or without anyone’s approval, and had the good sense and kindness to do everything he could to ensure that his grandad was safe.’

‘He should have told me!’

‘What? And have you do everything you could to put an end to it? I don’t think so,’ Mary sighed. ‘You can be very controlling sometimes.’

She thought of the farm and how much Atticus had wanted to continue with his sheep, but she knew that Mungo had talked their dad out of it. Undoubtedly, it had been for the best, but she remembered how heartbroken Atticus had been when the last of the Herdwick herd was sold.

‘Well, I can see that it’s a waste of time talking to you,’ Mungo said. ‘But all I can say is that I refuse to take any responsibility when Dad drops down dead.’

Mary gasped. She was shocked by the venom in Mungo’s voice. Feeling unable to carry on with the conversation, she spoke softly. ‘I’m sorry that you feel that way…’ She paused, waiting for Mungo to say more, but only silence followed. ‘And now, I am going to end the call,’ Mary added.

She hung up and, for a few moments, sat and thought about Mungo’s words. Then, picking up her phone again, she tapped out a text to Atticus.

Hi Dad. Hope you’re having a great holiday and meeting lots of new people. I am enjoying your photos on Instagram. Keep well and safe and speak soon. Love Mary xx

When Mary returned to the pub, she noted that Conor was several drinks in. He’d found a table, and empty glasses lay before him. His pint was gone, replaced by a large whisky, which he held in one hand while speaking on his phone with the other.

There was a break in the music, and as Mary sat down, she asked her husband who he was talking to.

‘Just checking on the kids,’ he replied, quickly hanging up and thrusting the phone into his pocket.

Mary frowned. She wasn’t aware that he had the babysitter’s number, but if he was, at last, having some input with the children’s welfare, she wouldn’t question him.

‘Are they okay?’ Mary asked.

‘Of course, glued to the TV,’ he replied. ‘Is Mungo alright?’

Mary thought she detected a slight slur in Conor’s words and realised that she’d been away too long. This wasn’t how she’d planned the night. Conor was hopeless after a few drinks, and although he was a pleasant drunk, he tended to fall asleep.

Mary began to tell Conor about the call, but as the music struck up again, she could see that he wasn’t interested and was now singing along with the group.

Mary picked up her glass and sipped the sparkling water. It tasted warm and flat. Exactly how I feel, she thought to herself.

Conor was on his feet, joining in with a rowdy chorus. As Mary stood too, she suddenly felt the button pop on her jeans, and her stomach burst over the top.

So much for her date night!