‘Are you saying your aunt Kathleen’s too old for this paper?’ I put on my best innocent face.
It had never worked with Suzanne either. She stared at it, trying to work out what it might be. She’s not the kind of kid to snatch. She’s cautious – thinks before she acts. I couldn’t bear making her wait any longer, so I handed it over. I have to admit, I was quite excited myself.
She ripped it open, flanked by her friends. They were all growing up, I noticed, losing the skinny little legs and the chubby cheeks. In a couple you could already see the women they would become. I had to fight my sadness at the thought that some would end up like Suzanne. Dissatisfied, nagging . . . faithless.
‘It’s a key,’ she said, puzzled, as she held it aloft. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘A key?’ I said, making myself look confused. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Greg . . .’
‘You sure you don’t recognise it?’
She shook her head.
‘It’s the key to my lock-up.’
She frowned, still not getting it.
‘The one by the jetty. Darn – I must have left your present in there. You and your mates might want to scoot down and check.’
They were gone before I could say another word, feet kicking up in the sand, all squeals and sneakers. Kathleen gazed at me quizzically, but I said nothing. Sometimes you just want to savour the moment and, these days, I get precious few to savour.
Within minutes they were sprinting back up the path. ‘Is it the boat? Is it the little boat?’ Her cheeks were flushed, her hair mussed round her face. I lost my breath. She was so much like her mother.
‘Did you check the name?’ I said.
‘Hannah’s Glory,’ she told her aunt Kathleen breathlessly. ‘It’s a blue dinghy and it’s called Hannah’s Glory. Is it really for me?’
‘Sure is, Princess,’ I said. That smile nixed my crappy morning. She threw her little arms round me, and I hugged her right back, unable to stop myself beaming.
‘Can we take it out? Can I take it out, Auntie K?’
‘Not right now, sweetheart. You’ve got your cake to cut. But I’m sure you can sit in it in the lock-up.’
I could hear her excited chatter the whole way down the path.
‘A boat?’ Kathleen turned to me, one eyebrow arched, when Hannah was out of earshot. ‘You talk to Liza about this?’
‘Ah . . . not yet.’ The kids were skipping back to my lock-up. ‘But I think I’m about to get my chance.’
She was striding towards me, holding a plate with the birthday cake on it, the little dog at her heels. She was beautiful. As always she looked like she’d meant to head for somewhere else but at the last minute she’d decided to stop by you, as a favour, you understand.
‘Hi. I’ve been hanging that bit of baleen on her wall – over her bed, she wants it.’ She nodded a greeting at me. ‘Stinks to high heaven. She’s got four books on dolphins, two on whales and a video. She’ll be opening her own museum at this rate. You’ve never seen a room so full of dolphin tat.’ She straightened. ‘Where are the kids off to?’
‘You might want to talk to Greg about that,’ said Kathleen. Then she walked off, one hand raised, as if she didn’t want to be around for the next bit.
‘They’re – ah – checking out my present.’
She put the plate on the table. ‘Oh, yes? What did you get?’ She began to whip the clingfilm off the sandwiches.
‘Old Carter was selling it. Little sculling craft. I’ve rubbed it down, given it a lick of paint. It’s in perfect nick.’
It took her a minute to register what I’d said. She stared at the table for a moment, then looked up at me. ‘You got her a what?’
‘A little boat. Of her own. I thought once she’s had a few lessons she can go and see the bottlenoses with her mates.’ I was a bit unnerved by her expression, so I added, ‘She’s got to have one eventually.’
She put her hands up to her mouth – 0a little like she was praying. She seemed something less than grateful.
‘Greg?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Are you out of your tiny mind?’
‘What?’
‘You bought my daughter a boat? My daughter who isn’t allowed out on the water? What the hell did you think you were doing?’ Her voice was blistering.
I stared back at her, unable to believe she was so mad. ‘I was giving the kid a birthday treat.’
‘It’s not your place to give my kid a birthday treat.’
‘She lives on the water. All her mates have little boats. Why shouldn’t she have one?’
‘Because I’ve told her she can’t.’
‘Why? What harm can it do? She’s got to learn, hasn’t she?’
‘She’ll learn when I’m ready for her to learn.’
‘She’s eleven years old! Why are you so mad? What the hell is this about?’ When she didn’t answer, I gestured towards Hannah, who was standing at the door of the lock-up. ‘Look at her – she’s pleased as punch. I heard her telling her mates it was the best birthday present she’d ever had.’
She wouldn’t listen, just stood in front of me, yelling, ‘Yes! So now I’ve got to be the wicked witch who tells her she can’t accept it. Thanks a bunch, Greg.’
‘So don’t. Let her have it. We’ll mind her.’
‘We?’
It was then that Mike appeared. I’d forgotten about him, asleep in my cab, some time ago. But now he was standing there, a little awkward, his suitcases in hand, his face still crumpled from sleep. I could cheerfully have told him to get lost.
Not that Liza noticed. She was still raging. ‘You should have asked me, Greg, before you butted in trying to buy a little girl’s love with a bloody boat – the one thing I’ve been telling her for the past five years she is not allowed to have.’
‘It’s just a little rowing-boat. It’s hardly a bloody two-hundred-horse-power speedboat.’ She was making me mad now. It was as if she was accusing me of trying to harm the kid.
‘Excuse me – can I just—’
She held up a hand, still facing me. ‘Just butt out of my life, okay? I’ve told you a dozen times I don’t want a bloody relationship with you, and you sucking up to my daughter isn’t going to change that.’ We fell silent, as the words settled around us. By God, she’d known that would sting.