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‘Look over there. Uncle Jon would look nice in that, Sophy,’ Alex informed her, having by now thoroughly entered into the spirit of things.
On the display she had indicated, Sophy could see a range of men’s casual separates in a soft, pale sand colour.
She went over to inspect them, trying in her mind’s eye to imagine Jon dressed in the well-cut brushed denim jeans and matching bush shirt, the toning grey and sand jumper draped casually over the model’s shoulders adoring Jon’s, and failed miserably. Even so...he was short of jeans, and she could always bring them back. Recklessly she bought a full outfit, adding socks and the shoes that the assistant pointed out to her, only remembering on the way out that she hadn’t got anything for herself.
A rack of pale green cotton shorts with matching patterned short-sleeved shirts and plain T-shirts caught her eye, and while she was studying them Alex tugged away from her hand, coming back several seconds later proudly clutching a mint and white bikini plus a pair of matching shorts.
‘Look at these, Sophy,’ she demanded. ‘They would look great with those shorts and things. You could sunbathe in the garden in them.’
It was years since she had worn a bikini—four at least. That was how long it had been since she had last been abroad. She no longer felt so ashamed of her body that she could not bring herself to reveal more of it than actually necessary, but even so...a bikini?
‘I don’t...’ she began and then seeing how Alex’s face fell, amended her remark quickly, ‘I don’t see why not! Come on, let’s go and pay for all these things, and then as a special treat...’
‘Fish and chips?’ they both begged together.
Laughing, she gave way.
‘Uncle Jon hardly ever lets us have chips,’ David complained on the way home. ‘He says they aren’t good for you.’
‘He’s quite right,’ Sophy agreed, firmly squashing any hopes David might have that she would not. There was a rather neglected vegetable plot in the garden and she had already tentatively wondered about planting it next year. There was obviously some of her father in her after all, she thought wryly. She must make a mental note to get the ground cleared and dug over in the winter, not by the arthritic James who normally did the gardening but by someone younger and stronger. Instead, James could supervise the planting next year.
‘I wish we had a swimming pool,’ Alex sighed when they reached home. ‘A lovely, cool swimming pool.’
‘Try a cold shower instead,’ Sophy suggested wryly, laughing when both children groaned.
This evening the heat was almost oppressive, but there was no sign of any impending storm.
‘What are you going to do with Uncle Jon’s new clothes?’ Alex asked after supper. ‘Keep them as a surprise?’
‘No, I think I’ll just hang them up in his wardrobe ready for him.’
‘But what about his old ones?’ Alex demanded. ‘Are you going to throw them away?’ She posed the question with a certain amount of delighted relish.
‘Er...no, I...’
‘You could send them all to the cleaners,’ David offered practically and knowingly. ‘That way he would have to wear the new ones but he wouldn’t be able to shout because you’d thrown the others away.’
Slightly startled, Sophy glanced at David’s downbent head. She hadn’t even thought he was listening to their conversation, but he was obviously far more astute and mature than she had known.
‘Uncle Jon never shouts,’ Alex protested loyally.
‘No, but he does get angry,’ David told her calmly, ‘Not many people know about it, though, because he just speaks very quietly.’
He was right, Sophy reflected. Jon did go very quiet when he was angry, and somehow that controlled softness in his voice was even more alarming than if he had bellowed at full volume.
‘I’m glad Uncle Jon married you and not Louise,’ Alex confided happily to Sophy, leaning her head affectionately against the latter’s knee.
‘Don’t be silly,’ David told his sister scornfully. ‘Uncle Jon would never have married Louise.’
‘No, he was frightened of her,’ Alex confided naively. ‘He always used to go...er...er...a lot more when she was there.’
