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Mind the Wobbly Bottom
When Amy woke in the morning the sun was already up and shining through the walls of the tent, which felt like an oven, and smelt strongly of wee and sheep poo. The pile of dirty clothes needed to be put in the washing machine right away.
‘Harry, are you okay staying here if I run over to put some washing on?’
‘I’m going to the toilet. Can I?’
‘On your own? Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Mam! I’m nearly NINE!’
‘You were only eight two months ago,’ she pointed out and Harry rolled his eyes skywards. ‘And you fell over last night.’
‘I can go to the toilet by myself, you know. When’s breakfast?’
‘I’ll sort it out as soon as I get back.’
It was nearly eight o clock, and the campsite was coming to life. The sun was out, the sky was blue, the birds were singing, the air smelt fresh and clean — apart from the scent rising from the bundle of dirty clothing in her arms — and she was here, at Elder Fell Farm. Today she would take Harry up the valley and see if she could find the cottage. She could picture it in her mind, faded and yellowed like an old photograph, standing on the corner where the farm track met the path to the tarn, a low building with white walls, a grey slate roof and tiny, deep-set windows. Then they would walk up the old footpath to Loverswater with a packed lunch and they could paddle, splash about in the water, skim stones and do all the old-fashioned outdoorsy things she remembered doing with her mother. So what if there were clouds beginning to gather behind the mountains? It was sunny right now, and that was all that mattered; they should make the most of it.
‘Good morning!’ she greeted Oliver Sutherland’s dad as she passed their campervan. He looked tired; she hoped it wasn’t as a result of helping her last night. ‘By the way, I don’t know your name. I can’t keep calling you Oliver’s dad.’
‘No, you can’t! I’m Matt.’
‘I’m Amy. I’d shake hands if it wasn’t for the sheep poo.’
‘Perhaps it’s better if we don’t, then!’ He grinned. ‘Nice to meet you properly, Amy, How’s Harry’s knee this morning?’
‘Okay, thank you. He’s not making a fuss — but then, he never does. I’m doing some washing and I’ll bring Oliver’s spare pyjamas back as soon as the laundry’s dry.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve brought plenty. There’s no hurry.’
Plentyof spare pyjamas? How organised was this man? ‘Is Oliver awake yet?’
‘He’s awake, but he’s still in bed. He’s not an early riser, as a rule.’
‘I see. Harry’s always up with the lark, bags of energy, you see.’ She heard another of her mother’s favourite phrases echoing the past from her own mouth. Her mother had always been always “up with the lark” to tend to her garden.
‘He’s certainly lively,’ Matt said, and she hoped she didn’t detect a note of sarcasm. ‘Do you have plans for today?’
‘Yes, we’re going up to Loverswater, taking a packed lunch and doing some exploring. I’m going to see if I can find the cottage where I used to stay with my mam when I was little.’
‘Did you come here often, then?’
‘Three or four times, I think. They all kind of blur into one. Are you going out for the day?’
‘I thought we’d climb Elder Fell today, but Oliver says he’s too tired, he doesn’t feel very well. He wants to stay in the campervan. I don’t know whether I should take him at his word and let him stay in bed or whether he needs a gentle shove to get him out into the sunshine.’ He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Stella would have known right away whether he was faking or not. I don’t have the right instincts. It’s hard, sometimes, on your own, isn’t it? What do you reckon?’
‘It is hard, you’re right.’
‘No, I mean, what would you do? If it was Harry?’
‘You’re asking me? Seriously?’ James would never have asked her advice on anything to do with child rearing. ‘I don’t think it matters what I would do. The boys are very different, after all.’
‘They are, aren’t they?’ he said. ‘I suppose Harry wouldn’t need bribing to get out of bed.’
‘No, but I might have to bribe him to go to bed this evening.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Good luck with getting Oliver up!’
‘Have a good day out. I hope you find your cottage.’ He ducked back inside the awning and she heard the campervan door slide shut.
