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‘Intelligent, determined, beautiful.’
Annabelle faltered. Did Ron just say she was beautiful?
She sneaked a glimpse at him out of the corner of her eye, but he was looking straight ahead, and she wondered whether he was simply being polite – after all, she’d practically invited and encouraged him to say nice things about her – or whether he’d actually meant what he’d said.
Interestingly, she rather hoped it was the latter.
***
‘That one!’ Izzie declared. ‘I want that one.’
‘Are you sure?’ Ron asked.
The cuddly toy she was pointing at was small and fairly nondescript. It was a beanie type dog, roughly resembling a black Labrador puppy, and was small enough to sit in the palm of Ron’s hand, should he succeed in winning it.
Annabelle was also surprised at her daughter’s choice of toy. She would have expected her to go for something larger.
Izzie was emphatic. ‘That’s the one I want.’
‘What about that one there?’ Ron pointed to a huge brown and white dog which was almost as large as Izzie herself. Its face wore a manically cheerful expression.
Izzie shook her head. ‘No. That one.’
‘What’s so special about that little dog?’ Annabelle asked. The inner workings of her children’s minds was an endless source of fascination to her.
‘He’s little, like Pepe, so I can take him with me.’
‘Even if Ron won you the big one, you can still take him with you,’ Annabelle pointed out.
‘He’s too big for the plane. The little one will fit in my rucksack.’
‘Oh, my sweet girl, we won’t be flying anywhere. We won’t be going back.’ A stab of pain to the heart caught Annabelle unawares and she stifled a sob, blinking away the bitter sting of tears. She thought she’d explained it to her children, but she realised that Izzie hadn’t fully grasped the situation.
‘Shall we see if I can win the little guy?’ Ron said, handing some money over to the bloke manning the booth and picking up thethree darts he’d been given in exchange. He sent Annabelle a slightly panicked look, and she had a feeling Ron had never thrown a dart in his life. Why couldn’t Izzie have chosen a toy from the stall with the rifles and the ducks? He’d been in the army, so surely he could point and shoot?
Ron stood as close as he could and leaned forward as much as possible. The aim was to burst a balloon. How difficult could it be, right? But if it was as easy as it looked, the stallholder would be out of business in an afternoon, so what was the catch?
Despite not wanting to look, Annabelle couldn’t help herself. The two boys were entranced, but Izzie had her hands over her face and was peeping through her fingers. Annabelle seriously considered doing the same.
Ron shuffled, getting his balance, one foot in front of the other, his focus on the yellow balloon in front of him. He pulled his arm back slightly, then slowly moved it forward, repeating the process twice more before he finally let the dart fly.
It bounced harmlessly off the balloon and dropped to the floor, and all three children let out a groan of disappointment.
‘Go on, Ron, you can do it!’ Sam urged, and Ron pulled a face.
The stallholder whipped forward to snatch the failed dart up, then stepped safely to the side as Ron prepared to throw again.
The same thing happened.
Ron muttered under his breath, and Annabelle looked away. She didn’t want to see her daughter’s face when the third and final dart clattered to the ground.
Another groan told her the outcome of his final throw, and when she looked at Izzie her daughter had her thumb in her mouth – something she’d grown out of when she was about four or five, but had started doing again since she’d learned that her whole world had been turned upside down. Over the past couple of weeks the thumb-sucking had eased off a little, and Annabelle had been starting to hope that Izzie was losing the habit. However, it was back with a vengeance today.
‘What a shame,’ Annabelle said. ‘Ron did his best.’ She shot him an apologetic look, and he mouthed ‘Sorry,’ back at her. He was clearly as disappointed as she, and she guessed he was kicking himself for having said he’d try to win the toy in the first place.
Izzie looked up at her, her eyes brimming with tears. She took her thumb out of her mouth for long enough to say, ‘I know,’ then she shoved it straight back in again, and Annabelle realised just how badly her daughter had wanted the toy.
‘There’s got to be a shop or two selling cuddlytoys,’ Annabelle said, draping her arm around Izzie’s thin shoulders and pulling her into a hug as she drew her away from the stall. They could have a look along the front, where she’d noticed loads of kiosks and shops – one of them must surely have a similar toy for sale.
