He waved with his free hand, offering a broad smile to go with it. Saffy set off across the rope bridge in pursuit of another little girl, whose mother looked on nervously from the side lines. He could understand, more or less. He wondered at what point a parent would cease worrying about how their children might damage themselves. It seemed to him that from a very early age, they were practically indestructible. That was his experience where Saffy was concerned. Once, she had bounced from a sofa, pitching forward in an unplanned somersault and landed head first in a heap on a hardwood floor. There were a lot of tears and blood-curdling shrieking but once the initial shock subsided, no harm was done and she was off in search of more stimulation.
Perhaps there was no set timescale. The fears only shifted along with the perspective as the child grew up. Today’s playground would become tomorrow’s gymnastics and then, soon enough, her first driving lessons.
Sipping more coffee, he shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. It was still sitting low in the sky and he regretted not bringing his sunglasses. His head felt foggy and a mild headache gnawed at him. On another day, he could be cursing the bottle of wine drunk the night before but he hadn’t had a drink in months. Thinking about it, it could be much longer. He couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t a choice to stop drinking, merely something he fell into by accident. Either way, his lips were dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. A hangover but without the fun of the night before. Maybe he should be drinking after all if this was what abstinence felt like.
“Penny for them.” He looked to his left as Alice approached. He hadn’t heard her. She clutched a jute bag containing whatever it was she was picking up this morning. She must have said but he was preoccupied and hadn’t really been listening.
“What’s that?”
“You were miles away.”
Tom smiled. He was lost in thought but with nothing in particular. That wouldn’t be an acceptable answer, so he chose to say nothing. Alice was much like her daughter, very inquisitive. Others would call her nosey but not him, he wouldn’t dare.
“Did you get me coffee?” She looked around expectantly, frowning at the absence of an extra cup.
“Sorry, I didn’t know how long you would be.”
“No problem. Did you manage to keep a hold of my daughter, at least?” She was only semi-serious, her tone mocking as always. Even when they were children, Alice used to take the position of the authoritarian despite being several years younger than Tom. He pointed towards the play area and as if on cue, her head popped up again. Catching sight of her mother, the suddenly animated girl jumped up and down letting out a whoop of delight. Alice waved. “Seems to be enjoying herself.”
“Saffy always does.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call her that.” Alice was curt. He knew the shortening of her name irritated her.
“Well, what did you think it was going to be shortened to?” Now it was his turn to stir things.
“We didn’t really think about it.”
“So, what do you call her?” he asked, wracking his memory for an occasion when she’d used a nickname but couldn’t recall one.
“Sapphire.” Alice was matter of fact. “It is her name after all.”
He frowned, then flicked his eyebrows to indicate his understanding. At that moment, the girl in question appeared and hurled herself into her mother’s arms, momentarily throwing her off balance.
“Hey, Saffy.” He cast a sideways glance at Alice just as Sapphire extracted herself from her mother’s hug and launched herself into him. “Was that fun?” She nodded affirmatively. “Where should we go now?”
“The beach!” He laughed and Alice shook her head. The little girl always wanted to go to the beach, it was the destination of choice if ever given the option.
“We’re not going to the beach this morning, young lady.” Alice was firm. The way she managed her daughter’s expectations was commendable. One day, he would be a parent himself and he might adopt a similar approach. Although, in reality, he knew he was more likely to be a pushover or delegate all responsibility regarding tough decision making to his partner.
His attention was drawn to raised voices. The type of altercation you hear when a couple are having a very public argument, unable to hold themselves back until behind closed doors but, at the same time, attempting to continue their heated discussion without anyone else overhearing. An impossible task. Fortunately for the man and woman in question, the car park was pretty quiet at this time on a Saturday morning. Those in the play area were preoccupied with their children and only the three of them were there to witness the display.
The woman caught his eye appearing to notice the attention, not that he was particularly interested, and she dropped whatever she was saying mid-sentence. She was in her forties, dressed in riding trousers and boots, the stereotypical garb of someone getting into a nearly new Range Rover on the weekend in affluent rural Norfolk. She was either on her way to tend to her horses or had already done so. Her
