‘Stop it, Lil. That’s not going to help.’

Tom was standing on one leg, to examine his calf, which was pouring copious blood. He went back into the sea and stood sloshing the sea water on to the bite. He came out again, found his swimming towel, tore it in half, and tied one half tight around his leg. Then he stood, hesitating. He might have gone back into his house and through it to Lil’s. He might have stayed in his own house, claiming it from Ian? He could have flopped down where he stood near the fence, not far from the women. Instead he turned and stared hard, it seemed with curiosity, at Ian. Then he limped to where Ian sat, and sat down by him. No one spoke.

The women stared at these two young heroes, their sons, their lovers, these beautiful young men, their bodies glistening with sea water and sun oil, like wrestlers from an older time.

‘What are we going to do, Roz?’ whispered Lil.

‘I know what I am going to do,’ said Roz, and stood up. ‘Lunch,’ she called, exactly as she had been doing for years, and the boys obediently got up and followed the women into Roz’s house.

‘You’d better get that dressed,’ said Roz to her son. It was Ian who fetched the box of bandages and Elastoplast and put disinfectant on the bite, and then tied up the wound.

On the table was the usual spread of sausages and cheese and ham and bread, a big dish of fruit, and the four sat around the table and ate. Not a word. And then Roz spoke calmly, deliberately. ‘We all have to behave normally. Remember – everything must be as usual, as it always is.’

The boys looked at each other, for information, it seemed. They looked at Lil. They looked at Roz. They frowned. Lil was smiling, but only just. Roz cut an apple into four, pushed a quarter each at the others, and bit juicily into her segment.

‘Very funny,’ said Ian.

‘I think so,’ said Roz.

Ian got up, clutching a big sandwich stuffed with salad, the apple quarter in his other hand, and went into Roz’s room.

‘Well,’ said Lil, laughing with something like bitterness.

‘Exactly,’ said Roz.

Tom got up, and went out and across the street to Lil’s house.

‘What are we going to do?’ Lil asked her friend, as if she expected an answer, there and then.

‘It seems to me we are doing it,’ said Roz. She followed Ian into her bedroom.

Lil collected up the box with the medicaments and bandages, and walked across to her house. On the way she waved to Saul Butler, who was on his verandah.

School began: it was the boys’ last year. Both were prefects, and admired. Lil was often in other towns and places, judging, giving prizes, making speeches, a well-known figure, this slim, tall, shy woman, in her pale perfect linens, her fair hair smooth and neat. She was known for her kind smile, her sympathy, her warmth. Girls and boys had crushes on her and wrote letters that often included, ‘I know that you would understand me.’ Roz was supervising productions of musicals at a couple of schools, and working on a play, a farce, about sex, a magnetic noisy woman who insisted that her bite was much worse than her bark: ‘So watch out; don’t make me angry!’ The four were in and out, together or separately, nothing seemed to have changed, they ate their meals with windows open on the street, they swam, but sometimes were by themselves on the beach because the boys were out surfing, leaving them behind.

Both had changed, Ian more than Tom. Diffident, shy and awkward he had been, but now he was confident, adult. Roz, who remembered the anguished boy when he had first come to her bed, was quietly proud, but she could never of course say a word to anyone, not even Lil. She had made a man of him, all right. Look at him… never these days did he clutch and cling and weep, because of his loneliness and his vanished father. He was quietly proprietorial with her, which amused her – and she adored it. Tom, who had never suffered from shyness or self-doubt, had become a strong, thoughtful youth, who was protective of Lil in a way that Roz had not seen. These were no longer boys, but young men, and good-looking, and so the girls were after them, and both Lil’s house and Roz’s were, they joked – like fortresses against delirious and desirous young women. But inside these houses, open to sun, sea breezes, the sounds of the sea, were rooms where no one went but Ian and Roz, Tom and Lil.

Lil said to Roz she was so happy it made her afraid. ‘How could anything possibly be as wonderful?’ she whispered, afraid to be overheard – by whom? No one was anywhere near. What she meant was, and Roz knew she did, that such an intense happiness must have its punishment. Roz grew loud and jokey and said that this was a love that dare not speak its name, and sang, ‘I love you, yes I do, I love you, it’s a sin to tell a lie…’

‘Oh, Roz,’ said Lil, ‘sometimes I get so afraid.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Roz. ‘Don’t worry. They’ll soon get bored with the old women and go after girls their own age.’

Time passed.

Ian went to college and learned business and money and computers, and worked in the sports firms, helping Lil: soon he would take his father’s place. Tom decided to go into theatre management. The best course in the whole country was in his father’s university, and it seemed obvious that there was where he should go. Harold wrote and rang to say that there was plenty of room in the house he now shared with his new wife, his new daughter. Harold and Roz had divorced, without acrimony. But Tom said he would stay here, this town was his home, he didn’t want to go north. There was a good enough course right here, and besides, his mother was an education in herself. Harold actually made the trip to argue with his son, planning to say that Tom’s not wanting to leave home was a sign of his becoming a real mummy’s boy, but when he actually confronted Tom, this self-possessed and decided young man, much older than his real age, he could not bring out the evidently unjust accusation. While Harold was staying, several days, Ian had to stay home, and Tom too, in his own house, and none of the four liked this. Harold was conscious they wanted him to leave; he was not wanted. He was uneasy, he was uncomfortable, and said to Roz that surely the two boys were too old to be so often with the older women. ‘Well, we haven’t got them on leashes,’ said Roz. ‘They’re free to come and go.’

‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Harold, in the end, defeated. And he went back to his new family.

Tom enrolled for theatre management, stage management, stage lighting, costume design, the history of the theatre. The course would take three years.

‘We’re all working like dogs,’ said Roz, loudly to Harold on the telephone. ‘I don’t know what you’re complaining about.’

‘You should get married again,’ said Roz’s ex-husband.

‘Well, if you couldn’t stand me, then who could?’ demanded Roz.

‘Oh, Roz, it’s just that I am an old-fashioned family man. And you must admit you don’t exactly fit that bill.’

‘Look. You ditched me. You’ve got yourself your ideal wife. Now, leave me alone. Get out of my life, Harold.’

‘I hope you don’t really mean that.’

Meanwhile, Saul Butler courted Lil.

It became a bit of a joke for all of them, Saul too. He would arrive with flowers and sweets, magazines, a poster, when he had seen Lil go into Roz’s, and call out, ‘Here comes old faithful.’ The women made a play of it all, Roz sometimes pretending the flowers were for her. He also visited Lil in her house, leaving at once if Tom were there, or Ian.

‘No,’ said Lil, ‘I’m sorry, Saul. I just don’t see myself married again.’

‘But you’re getting older, Lil. You’re getting on. And here is old faithful. You’ll be glad of him one day.’ Or he said to Roz, ‘Lil’ll be glad of a man about the place, one of these days.’

One day the boys, or young men, were readying themselves to go out to the big ocean for surfing, when Saul arrived, with flowers for both women. ‘Now, you two, sit down,’ he said. And the women, smiling, sat and waited.

The boys on the verandah over the sea were collecting surfboards, towels, goggles. ‘Hi, Saul,’ said Tom. A long pause before Ian’s, ‘Hello, Saul.’ That meant that Tom had nudged Ian into the greeting.

Ian resented and feared Saul. He had said to Roz, ‘He wants to take Lil away from us.’ ‘You mean, from you.’ ‘Yes. And he wants to get me too. A ready-made son. Why doesn’t he make his own kids?’

‘I thought I had got you,’ said Roz.

At which Ian leaped at her, or on her, demonstrating who had got whom.

‘Charming,’ said Roz.

‘And Saul can go and screw himself,’ had said Ian.

Saul waited until the two had gone off down the path to the sea, and said, ‘Now, listen. I want to put it to you both. I want to get married again. As far as I’m concerned, Lil, you’re the one. But you’ve got to decide.’

‘It’s no good,’ said Roz, and Lil only shrugged. ‘We can see how it must look. You’re just about as good a bargain as any women look for.’

‘And you’re talking for Lil, again.’

‘She’s often enough spoken for herself.’

‘But you’d both do better with a bloke,’ he said. ‘The two of you, without men, and the two lads. It’s all too much of a good thing.’

A moment of shock. What was he saying? Implying?

But he was going on. ‘You are two handsome girls,’ said this gallant suitor. ‘You’re both so…’ and then he seemed to freeze, his face showed he was struggling with emotions, violent ones, and then it set hard. He muttered, ‘Oh, my God…’ He stared at them, Lil to Roz and back again. ‘My God,’ he said again. ‘You must think me a bloody fool.’ His voice was toneless: the shock had gone deep.

‘I’m an idiot,’ he said. ‘So, that’s it.’

‘What?’ said Lil. ‘What are you talking about?’ Her voice was timid, because of what he might be talking about. Roz kicked her under the table. Lil actually leaned over to rub her ankle, still staring at Saul.

‘A fool,’ he said. ‘You two must have been having a good laugh at my expense.’ He got up and blundered out. He was hardly able to get across the street to his own house.

‘Oh, I see,’ said Lil. She was about to go after him, but Roz said, ‘Stop. It’s a good thing, don’t you see?’

‘And now it’s going to get around that we are lezzies,’ said Lil.

‘So what? Probably it wouldn’t be the first time. After all, when you think how people talk.’

‘I don’t like it,’ said Lil.

‘Let them say it. The more the better. It keeps us all safe.’

Soon they all went to Saul’s wedding with a handsome young woman who looked like Lil.

The two sons were pleased. But the women said to each other, ‘We’re neither of us likely to get as good a deal as Saul again.’ That was Lil.

‘No,’ agreed Roz.

‘And what are we going to do when the boys get tired of us old women?’

‘I shall cry my eyes out. I shall go into a decline.’

‘We shall grow old gracefully,’ said Lil.

‘Like hell,’ said Roz. ‘I shall fight every inch of the way.’

Not old women yet, nor anywhere near it. Over forty, though, and the boys were definitely not boys, and their time of wild beauty had gone. You’d not think now, seeing the two strong, confident, handsome young men, that once they had drawn eyes struck as much by awe as by lust or love. And the two women, one day reminding themselves how their two had been like young gods, rummaged in old photographs, and could find nothing of what they knew had been there: just as, looking at their old photographs, they saw pretty girls, nothing more.

Ian was already working with his mother in the management of the chain of sports shops, and was an up-and-coming prominent citizen. Harder to make a mark in the theatre: Tom was still working in the foothills when Ian was already near the top. A new position for Tom, who had always been first, Ian looking up to him.

But he persevered. He worked. And as always he was charming with Lil, and as often in her bed as he could, considering the long and erratic hours of the theatre.

‘There you are,’ said Lil to Roz. ‘It’s a beginning. He’s getting tired of me.’

But Ian showed no signs of relinquishing Roz, on the contrary. He was attentive, demanding, possessive, and when one day he saw her lying on her pillows, love-making just concluded, smoothing down loose ageing skin over her forearms, he let out a cry, clasped her, and shouted, ‘No, don’t, don’t, don’t even think of it. I won’t let you grow old.’

‘Well,’ said Roz, ‘it is going to happen, for all that.’