With nothing to photograph, Ashleigh has pushed back her seat and is lying with her mouth open, a thin strand of drool reaching to her shoulder. Bobby imagines posting it to her grid.Hashtag no filter. Brilliant.
It’s the early hours of Christmas Day when they arrive at The Shore. Ashleigh peers blearily through the windshield. “It looks even shittier than I remembered.”
“You didn’t have to come. You could have gone to your parents.”
Ashleigh pulls on her trainers. “And mess up the plan?”
The plan.Bobby is sick to the back teeth of the fucking plan. For a simple man who likes simple pleasures, Bobby’s life has gotten a bit too complicated for his liking. Behind the row of lodges, the lake is as black as the sky. A single light is still on at the Lloyds’ place. “I don’t think I can go through with this,” he says, surprising himself with his sudden honesty.
There’s a beat, then Ashleigh gets out of the car. “You don’t have a choice.”
On Christmas Day, Bobby wakes up early. He pads downstairs, makes himself a coffee, and pulls on his coat, then walks into the woods to call Mia. Mia is the best thing ever to have happened to him. Better than boxing, better than acting, and better—so, so much better—than Ashleigh. He would feel bad for cheating on his wife if it weren’t for her habit of shagging Premier League footballers whenever she could get away with it.
“Merry Christmas, gorgeous.” Out on the lake, a bird dives for a fish, then emerges with a flash of silver in its beak.
“Did Santa come?” Mia sounds sleepy.
Bobby gives a dirty laugh. “He will later.”
“I can’t wait.”
They’d been careful in the summer, meeting outside or in pubs miles from anywhere. Mia’s neighbors were the net-curtain-twitching type, and all it would take would be an anonymous tip-off to the papers for Bobby’s extramarital affair to be common knowledge. Bobby doesn’t give a fuck, but Ashleigh would go apeshit.What about the plan?
Meeting outside was all well and good in the summer, but December, in North Wales? He’d be lucky to coax Little Bobby out from his boxers. Tonight, Mia will leave her front door unlocked and Bobby will slip in, and then—well. Slip in.
Just before eleven, the Christmas Day swimmers start to congregate. Bobby and Ashleigh have put their differences aside, helped in no small part by the Gucci handbag Bobby wrapped up for Ashleigh.
“Oh, bae, I love it!” She threw her arms around him. A second later, he heard theclickof her camera phone and knew the moment would be online within minutes.When your man knows exactly how to make you happy…
Now, the air is clear and fresh, the deck glistening with frost. Bobby puts a steadying arm on Dee’s elbow as her stick slips on the wood.
“Don’t you worry about me, dear,” she tells him. “I’m tough as old boots.” She’s carrying a proper camera. Discounting the paparazzi, Bobby can’t remember the last time he saw one—it’s practically vintage. He poses for her, a cheesy circus strongman pose that makes her laugh.
“Now mine, bae.” Ashleigh’s in the fur coat Bobby gave her for her birthday. It’s fake, of course, although it cost as much as a real one. She’s just spent an hour doing her hair, so Bobby knows there’s no chance of getting her in the water.
“Merry Christmas!” Clemmie’s in her wet suit, looking as if she means business. Bobby probably looks a right dick in his festive boxers, but he never minds playing for laughs. He takes a slurp of his Bloody Mary.
“Stand there a sec.” Ashleigh waves her phone at him.
“Not today, yeah?” He puts down his glass, but she frowns.
“With the drink. There. Lean against the railing and—”
“Can we have one day without thinking about bloody Instagram?”
Ashleigh glares at him, then walks away. Bobby calls after her. “I thought you were going to film the swim?”
“What’s the point if we’re not going to put it online?”
Plan or no plan, Bobby isn’t sure how much more of this he can take.
The Lloyds have dressing gowns over their swimsuits. It’s the first time Bobby’s seen Rhys since Mia told him what the bastard did in October, and his jaw tightens. Yasmin’s muttering something at Rhys, who glowers. Has Yasmin found out her husband made a pass at Mia? Even the twins seem subdued—red-eyed and sullen. Something’s definitely up with the whole family.
Mia had made Bobby promise not to touch Rhys. “I can’t have him bad-mouthing me around town,” she said. “I need the work.”
Bobby wanted to tell her to send her bills to him, but he knew exactly what she’d say. Mia’s no freeloader—not like Ashleigh—and he loves her even more for it.
Dee’s getting all the swimmers together. “Is everyone ready? Say cheese!” Bobby sees Yasmin lean into her husband for the photo, then practically push him away the second the shutter has clicked. Maybe Bobby can keep his promise to Mia after all—it looks as if Yasmin’s got it covered.