“Eleven is a kid. Trystan’s not a kid.”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
Good question. “Sometimes it’s rude for adults to ask people how old they are … you could ask him. Then you could tell me and we’d both know.”
“You said it’s rude to ask people how old they are.”
“It’s rude for adults to ask. For kids it’s fine. It doesn’t matter though. You probably shouldn’t ask him.”
“Don’t you want to know any more?”
“Not really. It doesn’t matter how old people are.”
“No. And it doesn’t matter if they have holes in their socks. It only matters how kind they are.”
“That’s very true,” Beth said, stifling a grin at the random comments Ellie came out with.
They’d moved outside again when Trystan came up to the house. Beth had clocked him the moment he stepped out of the cottage, and her heart was galloping by the time he reached the patio.
“Morning!”
“Hi.” She felt like a teenager when their eyes locked.
“Trystan!” Ellie called, running over to him with a skipping rope trailing behind her, which Mirren had found in the garage along with a bunch of other outdoor toys.
“How are you this morning?” he asked her, taking a seat.
“Fine, thank you,” Ellie replied sweetly.
“How was your run?” Beth asked.
“Great.”
Ellie sidled over to him, leaning against his leg. “How old are you?”
Inwardly Beth cringed but managed to keep her smile fixed. Had she really expected her daughter might have developed some awareness of the concept of subtlety? Their earlier conversation suddenly felt like a very bad idea.
“Why do you want to know?” Trystan asked her.
“Mummy wants to know.”
Openly cringing now, Beth decided there might be something fascinating near her feet and cast her eyes down there.
“It’s strange that Mummy didn’t ask me herself,” Trystan said, his voice oozing amusement.
“It’s rude for adults to ask,” Ellie explained matter-of-factly. “But it’s fine for kids.”
“I’m thirty-two,” he mock-whispered.
“He’s thirty-two,” Ellie echoed loudly.
Beth forced herself to look up. “I feel as though I might actually be on fire,” she said, touching her cheek.
“You do look as though you might spontaneously combust.”
“Mirren’s here!” Ellie called, then ran off down to the gate to wait for her.
Watching the golf cart trundle along the lane gave Beth a moment of respite from her embarrassment.