'It's good to see you,' she says.

'And you,' I say.

I should say a lot more nice things and make her feel welcome, but she's got to know I don't want her here.

'It's a very nice house.'

'Yeah.'

'It must cost a fortune.'

'I'll be getting good pay,' I say. 'Nearly double what I was getting before.'

What I've said is true, and it feels good to say it.

'That's great news, Patrick.'

She reaches for my hand, takes hold of it. I don't mind her doing it, and I like her warm touch, but I let go sooner than I would've at home. It's different now.

'The sea's down that way,' she says.

'We'll walk back that way later.'

'But it's such a beautiful day. You said so yourself.'

'It's better if we catch the bus to town first and then come back.'

'I'm not an old woman yet,' she says. 'I'm well able to walk.'

'You could run a marathon,' I say.

She laughs and punches my arm, soft, affectionate. And now she's got the laughter going she's got trouble stopping. My father hardly ever laughs, only snorts as though he's criticising something. I've never minded her laughing.

I smile at her.

'You sound like the seagulls,' I say.

'It's nice to be near the sea, isn't it?'

'That's why I came.'

She looks down the road. There's no sign of a bus.

'Why did you leave?' she says.

'I'd left the tap on upstairs.'

'That's not what I meant,' she says.

I say nothing.

'Don't treat me like a fool,' she says. 'You know I'm not.'

My mother collects porcelain animals and she always gets them on birthdays and at Christmas. She's got hundreds of them and she dusts them every other Sat.u.r.day afternoon.

I came home from the pub one night and she was sweeping up broken bits from the living room floor.

My brother Russell was helping.

'What's gone on here?' I asked.

Russell took me to the kitchen.

'Dad lost his temper and he went and threw two new horses against the wall.'

I went back into the living room and looked at my mother. She was down on her knees, collecting small shards and she turned and looked at me.

'He did it right in front of her,' said Russell.

Dad's temper must have been bad for Russell to speak against him. They've always stuck together.

And now, as we stand by the stone bus-shelter and wait, I see that same look on my mother's face.

'I want to know why you left home,' she says.

'I told you why. I left because of this new job. I'm not going over it again.'

'You left in an awful hurry,' she says. 'You only gave us a day's notice and we hardly had time to say a proper goodbye.'

I say nothing. She moves her handbag from one hand to the other.

'And what about Sarah? We were all very sad to hear about that, you know.'

I shouldn't have told them about Sarah. I could've lied and said it was my idea to finish it.

'End of story,' I say.

She looks at a bus travelling the other way as though she plans to go into the middle of the road and wave it down and ask the driver to turn around.

'We could be waiting here a month,' she says, 'let's walk.'

'What did you talk about while I was upstairs?'

'Nothing you'd be ashamed of.'

'So what was said? What did you talk about?'

'Those two lovely young men told me how much they enjoy living in the house.'

'That's good.'

'They said you're fitting in very well.'

'Fitting in?'

'Getting along.'

She puts her hand on my arm.

'The good-looking one,' she says, 'the dark-haired one with the cigarette behind his ear-'

'Shaun Flindall.'

'He's very good-looking, but I'm not sure that he knows it. He seems a bit biddable, the way he hangs off every word of the other one. The blond one. I'd bet he'd steal the blond one's personality if he could.'

She thinks what I think. It's pretty much always been that way. But I can't say this now. Not now. She can't stay here. She's got to go home.

'And the blond one? What's his name? I've forgotten.'

'Ian.'

'He studied maths at Cambridge. He's very self-a.s.sured, one of those arrogant but friendly types. A strange one, but at least you'll not be bored.'

'I know.'

She looks down the esplanade for the bus. There isn't one.

'They're both quite posh.'

I say nothing, don't even smile. I don't want to be hard on her, but she's left me no choice.

'And Bridget's building a boat.'

'I know.'

'What kind?'

'A clipper,' I say, though I wouldn't know a clipper if I fell over one.

'Maybe she'll take you sailing in it when it's finished.'

I sit up the back of the bus.

'Why sit up the back where the hooligans sit?' she says.

'I get sick up the front.'

'I didn't know that.'

I've left a s.p.a.ce between us and she puts her handbag there and looks at it as though to check if it's comfortable.

'I wish you hadn't left in such a hurry,' she says.

'Is that why you followed me here?'

'You left with hardly any warning. You just walked out. You broke it off with us.'

She thinks she understands it, but she doesn't. She thinks I was hurt by Sarah and so decided to hurt them. That's not it. I left so I could start again. I don't want her thinking I need her.

'You shouldn't have followed me here.'

Two old women get on with tartan shopping carts and, even though there's a whole empty bus, they sit two rows in front of us.

'I was hoping we could talk in your room at the boarding house,' she says. 'I was hoping to see your room.'

'You can see it later.'

She won't see it later. As soon as I've finished with her, she'll get straight on the next train.

'Why don't we go down to the sea?' she says. 'We could get an ice-cream.'

'Haven't you just eaten a packet of biscuits?'

'I had two biscuits. You're a terrible exaggerator.'

She's right.

I say nothing.

We get off the bus at the top of the main street and I take us in the direction of the station, but I stop outside the pub I saw yesterday, two doors down from the cinema.

'It's too early for the pub,' she says.

'Is it?'

'You're not drinking at this hour.'

She sits on the bench outside the pub.

I don't sit.

She opens the clasp of her handbag, takes out a tissue. 'Let's go to the sea. It's only just over there.

Let's get some fish and chips and watch the waves.'

She's spoken now like a small girl and I wish I could join her in the fun.

'I'd rather not,' I say.