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“Let Him Express Himself With Your Gravel”
Amy parked her car across her ex-husband’s drive, partly because reversing onto the busy road would be difficult, and partly because she knew it would annoy him. He had already seen her and was standing in the porch, glowering at her little red car.
‘Morning, James!’ she greeted him cheerfully as she walked up the gravel drive, every footstep like a tiny round of applause. ‘Is Harry ready to go?’ She pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head.
‘Harry?’ James called up the stairs, without acknowledging Amy. ‘Your mother is here.’
There was the familiar thundering of feet down the stairs and Harry appeared in the doorway behind his dad, wearing a pair of trainers several sizes too big, several shades too white, and several hundred pounds too expensive.
‘Mam! Look! New trainers!’ He waved a foot towards her.
‘I thought he could do with some new shoes for his holidays. Those blue ones are getting very shabby, aren’t they?’ James gave a quirk of his eyebrow that she knew of old, a sign of superiority.
‘Have you had a nice weekend?’ She gave Harry a tight hug. Money for new trainers might be scarce but love was not. She loved Harry, this small, grubby, unpredictable ball of energy she and James had somehow produced between them, with every fibre of her being.
‘Yeah. We went to see that new Lego film and we had burgers after! And then I got these new shoes for when you and me go to the Lakes District.’
‘Now, Harry, it’s you and I, and the Lake District, not the Lakes District!’ James gave Amy a glance which suggested she was somehow at fault for Harry’s error.
‘But Mam says there are lots of lakes there. So it’s the Lakes District. It has an s on it if there’s more than one! We did all that at school years ago.’ He raised his eyebrows, looking exactly like his father.
‘Well, in this case, it doesn’t have an s,’ James said.
‘It’s stupid, then,’ muttered Harry, as Laurie, James’s new partner, came around the side of the house from the back garden. Even though she carried a trowel, suggesting she’d been gardening, not a single strand of her neat, dark hair was out of place and there was no dirt on her pale, beautifully manicured hands. Amy didn’t know how she managed it.
Harry ran down the drive. ‘Jeez, look at the car! Where am I going to sit, Mam?’
The car was stuffed to the roof with bedding and camping gear.
‘Don’t say Jeez, please, Harry.’ Laurie placed the trowel neatly on the gatepost, and Harry rolled his eyes to his mother when he thought Laurie couldn’t see. ‘You do have a point though. Is there any room for poor Harry in that tiny car?’ she said with a laugh.
‘I’ve made you a space in the middle of the back seat, with all the bedding around you. You’ll be lovely and cosy in there, like a nest.’ Amy chose not to respond to Laurie’s comment, but rearranged the bedding on the rear seat to make more room.
‘Awesome! Come on then, let’s go. Can I choose the music?’
‘I’ve got our road-trip playlist!’
‘Just a minute!’ Laurie spoke quietly, but she did so with such self-confidence that when she talked everyone listened, even James. ‘I need to explain about the holiday.’
‘You do?’ Amy straightened up, looking at Laurie who stood on the other side of the car.
‘Yes. When Harry told us you couldn’t afford to take him on a proper holiday this year —’
‘This is a proper holiday!’
‘Camping, Amy? Seriously?’ James interjected.
‘Yes.’
‘But you hate outdoorsy things.’
‘No, I don’t. I love going to the beach.’
‘To lie on a beach towel and sunbathe. Not to go camping. You’ll hate it.’
‘I won’t. And it’s not about me, is it? I want to take Harry on holiday, and if camping is all I can afford since I lost my job, camping is what we’ll do. Mam really took to holidays under canvas after I left home and I’ve got all her old camping gear. Harry’ll love it. It’ll be an adventure.’ She abruptly pushed her sunglasses back down over her eyes.
‘I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time.’ Laurie held out a hand towards James. ‘And when you get back from your little trip, we’ve decided it’s time to take Harry on a proper holiday. We’re going to —’
