TWENTY-TWO

Tuesday 29 September

Nancy stood on the edge of a very large hole. It was twice her height at the end where she looked down, tapering to a few inches deep way down at the other end of the teardrop shape it made in her back garden.

It was magnificent. Or at least it would be in another few weeks once the gravel and plant filtering system was in place and it was filled with water. The natural pool company had made up a CGI image of the final article and where Nancy was standing there would be a cluster of natural boulders, designed to sunbathe against, or jump off into the clear water below.

‘Big enough?’ asked Dean, with a smile. He’d come outside to see the pool in its partially built state.

It was ten metres long and six metres wide. Plenty of room to swim. Nancy still couldn’t quite believe that it was hers, in her own garden. It didn’t feel real.

‘Just imagine,’ said Dean, indicating with his hand. ‘A dragonfly darts across the surface, its wings iridescent green. Purple irises framing the bank. Crystal-clear warm water to dip your toes in.’

She laughed, embarrassed. ‘It feels so decadent.’

‘Hey, you paid for it, you enjoy it,’ said Dean.

He was right, she knew, she just wasn’t used to being able to do things like this. It felt weird. But the rich did things like this all the time without a thought, she reminded herself. Nancy looked down at her pocket. Her phone was ringing. The number had come up as the school.

‘Excuse me,’ she said to Dean and moved away.

‘Hello?’

‘Mrs Miller? It’s Esther here from the office at Ripton Primary. I’m afraid there’s been an accident. Nothing serious,’ she quickly added, ‘but I think you should come and pick Lara up.’