Theo had left the golf ball on the table where Mara would see it, then moved it when she put down the fish.
“Look at its face,” she said.
He did. It seemed determined to make the room answer for something.
“Strong personality.”
“I know. It came with its own views.”
She unwrapped the rest of the paper, smoothed it flat and put the plate carefully in the middle of the table. There was a scarf on her bag which hadn't been there in the morning. Her hair was loose, faintly tangled at the ends. He could smell the sea on her when she passed to fetch water.
“Good day?” she asked.
“Very.”
“Freya sent me a frog.”
“Brian.”
“That's right.”
He smiled. “You should have seen Daniel. He decided Brian had come to the golf with someone and didn't actually want to be there.”
Mara looked at him over her glass.
“The frog?”
“Yes. At first Freya said it was a spectator, because I wanted to putt toward the wall beside it. Then we found a dinosaur in one of the holes, and that changed the social arrangements.”
She began to smile, politely rather than because she couldn't help it.
Theo reached for the ball. “I'd hit this into a bush. Not this one. Another. This was already there.”
“You lost your ball?”
“No. I gained one.”
He heard himself trying harder and put it down.
“And Freya won,” Mara said.
“Technically.”
“She'll enjoy that.”
“She did.”
Mara looked at the ball, then at him. “Sorry. I'm tired. I'm not getting the dinosaur.”
“It belonged to a child. Probably.”
“Right.”
He took a drink of coffee. It was still warm, but not as good as it had been before she arrived. He'd been expecting the story to go somewhere in her face, and she was standing with water and her new scarf, pleasantly exhausted by things he couldn't see.
She sat opposite him. “I bought a basket-sized amount of food in a bag. Adrian had to carry it.”
“Sounds like a good man.”
The phrase came out flat enough to make her look up.
“It wasn't a test.”
“I didn't mean—”
“I know.”
Mara reached for the blue plate. “We could use this at home.”
She stopped, one hand still on it.
He watched her fingers move away.
“You could,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Olives. Things which appreciate a critical fish.”
She laughed properly this time, then looked toward the kitchenette.
“Is there more coffee?”
“I can make some.”
“Don't get up.”
“I'd like another.”
He went inside and made two. The sound of the machine filled the room with something ordinary. Mara took the fruit from her bag, examined it, put one piece into the plate and stood back to admire the inadequacy of the meal she'd created.
“Scale issue,” she said.
“Fish seems pleased.”
“Nothing pleases it.”
He gave her the cup. They drank on the terrace until the light softened. She told him about Adrian's customer and the chair she'd liked too much. He listened. It was a good story, told with Mara's timing now, the bit about the chair not changing shortened to make the ending arrive where it ought. He smiled, then wondered whether she'd done the same for his frog and he had been too impatient to let her.
“He sells furniture?”
“Yes.”
“I need a chair.”
“He might talk you into a basket.”
“I have chairs at work. I could put one in the car.”
“Theo.”
“Just for the summer.”
“Buy yourself a chair.”
He laughed. He'd told her the rental chair was uncomfortable when she asked about the move, and she remembered. That fact shouldn't have warmed him so much. He took another drink before she could see the whole response.
“I asked Elena about Adrian coming tomorrow,” Mara said.
He looked at her.
“There's room. I said we'd like to bring one more person.”
We. He wondered whether she had noticed it.
“Right.”
“He's going to come.”
“Good.”
“You can say it isn't.”
“He can come on a boat.”
She put her cup down. “I'm not making you spend the day together.”
Theo looked at the sea between the trees. It would be the same water whoever came. They had booked the outing because they'd wanted to do something with friends before the wedding, and now friends were having a holiday with opinions and blisters and a new person who could carry a heavy plate.
“I'll manage,” he said.
“That sounds terrible.”
“It might be terrible. I intend to be stoic.”
She narrowed her eyes, then smiled. “Very attractive.”
“I know. I've been saving it.”
There was an ache somewhere inside the joke. He let it remain there. Mara stood to put away the market things and found the yellow golf ball beside her cup. She held it out to him.
“Did you mean to keep this?”
“No.”
“You can take it back tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
She passed it across. He put it in his pocket, still imagining the other morning in which she'd found Brian as funny as he had.
They did not have supper together. Freya called for Mara at the villa, admired the fish plate and watched Mara smiling as she described Adrian carrying it all afternoon. Mara said Freya was going to find something away from the usual terrace, and he said he'd told his father he might meet him. Neither invitation had been designed to exclude the other. That made it harder to resent, though Theo was prepared to try for a few minutes while he changed.
Bill was waiting at the bar with Patrick, who had at last received his suitcase and now disliked almost everything he'd packed. He explained that the new clothes had made the old ones seem timid. Bill admired this account of a completely avoidable expense and ordered them another drink.
Theo sat between them. It was a surprisingly good place to be.
His father talked about a man he knew who had bought a car far too large for his garage. Patrick talked about a woman he'd met in the shop while buying shorts, who'd claimed she could assess a man's income by the condition of his knees. Theo tried to decide whether this had been flirtation or a medical concern, and they spent more time on the question than it deserved.
They ate food brought to the little tables near the bar. Bill took more bread and told Theo he thought Spain was agreeing with him.
“With which part?”
“You look well.”
“I've been outside.”
“You should do that more.”
“Good advice.”
Bill smiled, accepting the tone without pretending not to hear it. He liked advice whose action happened somewhere beyond his own chair.
Later, when Patrick went to speak to somebody he'd met that afternoon, Bill asked whether Theo needed anything for the rental.
“A chair, apparently.”
“There's one in our spare room.”
“The floral one?”
“You can cover it.”
“It's wider than the room.”
“It’s a solid chair. You could come and measure it before you say no.”
Theo shook his head, laughing. Bill took a sip of his drink, then offered a lamp as well. Theo thought about the empty corner beside his sofa and said he would have a look when they got back.
They talked about other things. A fence Bill had been meaning to fix. The neighbour who put bins out two days early and then complained about how long bins remained on the pavement. Nothing was resolved. Theo sat with his father until the light on the terrace grew brighter than the sky.
Mara wasn't back when he returned to the villa. He put the golf ball in the bowl beside the key and went to make himself water with plenty of ice, copying an action his father had been recommending all week.
There were two cups drying near the coffee machine. The blue fish sat on the table with fruit in it. He carried one piece outside and ate it, sweet juice running toward his wrist. He leaned back in the chair and let the dark arrive properly.
When Mara came in she was carrying the sandals rather than wearing them. He watched her close the gate with her foot and put the shoes down.
“Anything left in the day?” she asked.
“I've got ice.”
“Excellent.”
She made herself a glass and came out to the terrace. They sat together without trying to turn it into supper, or a shared afternoon, or the other versions of company they'd had for years. After a while she asked whether he thought the fish ought to be packed in clothes for the journey home.
“You could keep the paper,” he said.
“I have.”
“Then you're equipped.”
She smiled, looking out into the dark. He liked being able to answer a question she genuinely wanted answered. He also liked not having to answer another one immediately.
They went inside separately, a few minutes apart. When he lay down on the daybed, the day's voices were still with him, Freya laughing, Daniel saying Brian had come with somebody, his father offering a chair enormous enough to fill another person's room.
He smiled at the ceiling. Somewhere behind the bedroom door Mara was moving quietly, preparing for the same tomorrow with different things to bring to it.