“I’m sure they’re about somewhere,” Mum said, even though there weren’t a lot of other places to go down there. Daniel had just suggested I run back to camp when we were startled by the disturbance of water, followed by a sharp, deep intake of air.

“Billy!” Daniel exclaimed. “There you are!”

Billy stood waist deep in the water, gasping for breath. He didn’t appear to be harmed. He was grinning. His torso, which was long and pleasantly defined, shimmered with water.

“Where were you?” Daniel exclaimed.

“Where is Fern?” I said.

Billy’s grin slipped. “She’s not here?”

I felt a flutter of panic. There were lots of reeds in this part of the water. What if Fern had got tangled in them? What if she was stuck? I was about to launch myself into the water to look for her when there was another splash, another gasp for air. And then, Fern was there, wet from head to toe. Unlike Billy, she was barely panting.

Billy groaned. “No way!”

“We were seeing who could hold their breath the longest,” Fern explained. “I won, again.”

“She must have an oxygen tank under there,” Billy muttered.

“I read a book about free diving,” Fern explained.

Billy rolled his eyes.

“It’s called lung packing, Billy,” Fern said. “It’s a very simple technique.”

Billy shoved her playfully and Fern frowned. I knew she would see this kind of gesture as confusing after she had provided him with such useful information. After a moment, she shoved him back. Fern had been doing karate for a few years by then and was stronger than she looked. Billy fell backward into the water.

“Feisty,” he said, laughing as he got back on his feet. “Best out of three?”

Fern looked confused but she nodded and they both inhaled deeply and then dived under the water again. As they disappeared, I noticed Mum was watching the interaction closely.

“I think someone’s got a crush,” she said to Daniel, waggling her eyebrows.

“Who?” Daniel said, oblivious. He was bent over, digging through stones, most likely looking for a smooth one for skimming. But hearing Mum’s comment, he stood. “Billy? On Fern.”

Mum’s smile grew. “I think it might be mutual.”

Daniel frowned. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No!” Mum said, waving her hand. “You’ll only embarrass him. Besides, it’s a little crush, it’s not hurting anyone.”

Daniel shrugged and, after a moment, went back to looking for stones. Once she was sure he was distracted, Mum looked me dead in the eye, and smiled.

FERN

Wally knocks at my front door at 6:45 P.M., exactly fifteen minutes earlier than the suggested time of 7:00 P.M. This little detail alone is enough to make me second-guess myself. It’s been a week since I decided to end my relationship with Wally, but this has been the first time I’ve had the opportunity and inclination to do it. Wally always seems to be working late, or traveling, or in meetings. He hasn’t been to the library once. Rose has used this as reinforcement that I am doing the right thing.

“You see? He doesn’t have time to even see you. When would he have time to raise a baby?”

She has a point. As usual.

Wally knocks again, and I open the door.

“Hey,” he says. For the first time in ages, Wally isn’t wearing a suit. He is wearing that lumberjack shirt he had on the first time I saw him at the library, with jeans and sneakers. He is even wearing his stripy hat. He gives me a smile that, somehow, makes me feel sad.

“Hello.” The pitch of my voice is a little higher than usual. I’d had a flutter in my chest all day thinking about what I was going to do tonight, but suddenly the flutter is more of a flapping. I wrap my arms around myself and take a deep slow breath.

“Are you okay?” Wally asks, still in the doorway.

Over the past week as Wally and I have communicated via text message, he has asked me this many times. He has also asked me to forgive him. Each time, I have informed him that there is no need to ask forgiveness; to the contrary, I am the one who should apologize. Still, Wally has obviously sensed something is up, perhaps due to the absence of x’s in our text messages these past few days (a tip from Rose so as not to give him “mixed messages”).

“I’m perfectly okay,” I tell him. “Please, come in.”

Upon entering, Wally turns quickly right and left. I’d forgotten the state of the flat would come as a surprise to him. The last time he was here the place was, of course, furnished. But over the past few days Rose and I have more or less cleared the place out, moving my belongings to Rose’s (the spare room, until the doll’s house is finished). Tomorrow, I will be returning the key to the landlord.

“I’ve moved into Rose’s house,” I explain.

Oddly, this doesn’t appear to be news to Wally, even though I hadn’t mentioned anything about moving out of my flat. He looks at me sadly. “Are you breaking up with me?”

The words catch me off guard. Breaking up. All of a sudden, it sounds like something teenagers do in the hallway at high school, between classes. (Not teenagers like me. I read books in the hallway at high school, between classes.) It also indicated that he had indeed noticed the lack of x’s in our text messages.

“I’d like to end our relationship, yes,” I said.

“Because of dinner last week?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

I look at his too-loose jeans, his black lace-up sneakers, and have a sudden recollection of thinking he was homeless. It’s funny, remembering the time you didn’t know someone once you do know them. The first time I had met Janet, I’d thought she was going to be brash and loud. She wore brightly colored resin jewelry that I had always found went hand in hand with brash, loud people. I’d got that wrong. And I’d got Wally wrong too.

“Is it because of your sister?”

I tell him it’s not, but his jaw tightens anyway.

“Can I say something?” he says. “I know you love your sister, but…” He shakes his head, sighs. “Something isn’t right about her. It’s like she doesn’t know where she ends and you begin. It’s like she thinks … you belong to her or something.”