Page 46 of One Last Thing
My mouth filled with toothpaste, I blink at her. ‘Huh?’
‘A bear stole my bra,’ she repeats through gritted teeth.
I turn to spit out my toothpaste and grab a bottle of water to wash out my mouth, before wiping my lips with the back of my hand. She’s wearing some sort of silk kimono robe which is totally at odds with the setting, but in her defence, she didn’t pack for camping, she packed for a luxury hotel spa. Still, it’s funny.
‘Mum, what are you going on about?’ I demand to know.
‘Last night, I discreetly hung my bra on a branch near the tent so it could dry out.’
‘Why was your bra wet?’
‘I was sweating a lot on the horse in the heat!’
‘Eugh.’
She puts her hands on her hips, her mouth a hard straight line.
‘Sorry,’ I say quickly, realising that wasn’t very kind. ‘I was, too.’
‘Thank you.’ She runs her fingers through her hair. ‘My bra is gone.Gone. And I didn’t bring a spare.’
‘Are you sure you haven’t mislaid it?’ I say, glancing around at our fellow campers all packing up and chatting around morning cups of tea. ‘You didn’t get much sleep last night, I think you’re a bit delirious.’
‘Oh, so now I’ve lost my marbles, is that it?’ she snaps defensively.
‘No, I didn’t say that.’ I frown at her. ‘I think there might be another explanation, that’s all. Have you looked around the tent?’
‘I’ve lookedeverywhere.’
‘Maybe someone else took it by mistake.’
She snorts, gesturing at the others. ‘You think one of these people took my bra?’
‘You think abeardid!’
‘I knew this would happen. I knew it.’ She throws her hands up in the air. ‘This is all your father’s fault. This is why I don’t go camping.’
‘Because a bear might steal your underwear?’
She narrows her eyes at me. ‘This is a serious issue, Megan. How do you expect me to ride a horse overrockswithout a bra? And I needn’t tell you how expensive it was, but you know I don’t buy cheap lingerie.’
I wrinkle my nose. ‘Please don’t use the word “lingerie”.’
‘What? Whyever not?’
‘I don’t know, it’s weird. It’s too . . . sexual. You’re my mum.’
‘Christ’s sake, Megan, I built my career on sexual language. My sexual language paid for your education,’ she says all haughtily.
‘Stop saying “sexual language”!’ I plead, noticing Nico emerging from his tent nearby.
Topless, he stretches his arms up over his head as he looks out over the lake, the sun pouring on his rippling shoulders, muscular back and the dip of his spine. He turns round and sees me, breaking into a smile and giving a wave. Tearing my gaze up from his solid chest and sculpted abs, I plaster on a smile and nod back, my mouth dry.
Mum follows my eyeline, turning briefly to wave at him, before spinning back to face me. ‘My, my. On the other hand, camping does come with quite the view. Maybe it is worth it,’ she remarks, giving me a knowing smile as heat flushes up my neck and through my face.
‘God, Mum. You really know how to make me . . . squirmy.’
‘I don’t thinkI’mthe one making you squirmy, my darling.’
