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“No, he likes to go to the gym. And the pub. He sleeps lots because it makes him tired.”
Ella’s dad doesn’t take her to the park? Isn’t that what dads are supposed to do? She squeals as I push her higher.
“Do you think he’ll come to see me at Christmas?” asks Ella. “I miss him.”
Oh, shit.Why the fuck did I mention him? “Um. Ask your mum?”
“I did. She said she doesn’t know.”
Then how the hell would I know?
“Ella!” A woman’s voice carries through the cool wind toward us.
I look around. Cerys storms across the park towards me and Ella, holding something blue in her hand. As she approaches, she fixes me with the same unimpressed stare as in the kitchen the other night. Ella finally has the momentum she wants on the swing and the whole contraption squeaks as she flies above our heads.
“What do you think you’re doing?” yells Cerys.
“What?” I ask.
“You take Ella out without telling anyone and don’t even put her coat on!” Cerys shoves the blue puffed jacket at me and I grab it in surprise, staring back into the woman’s angry, pink face. She looks up at her daughter. “Well done, at least you managed to put shoes on her!”
The swing creaks and I step back.
“Ella! Slow down!” shouts Cerys. “Didn’t you think how dangerous this is for a four year old?” she snaps at me.
“It’s a swing. Calm down.”
“Look how high she is!”
“She’s okay.”
“How would you know?” After another glare, Cerys turns back to her daughter. “Ella! Stop right now and put your coat on!”
Ella stops swinging her legs and her mouth turns down at the corners. She watches her mum warily as the swing comes to a stop. Cerys snatches the jacket back from me and roughly shoves her daughter’s arms inside.
“I wanted to go to the park,” Ella protests. “And you were asleep.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone before taking her? I woke up and she was gone!” Cerys half-shouts at me.
“Whoa. Okay. Everyone was in bed. I thought I’d help out.”
“What if something happened to her?”
I rub my cheek. What the fuck is wrong with this woman? “Like what? We’re five minutes from the house. I think you’re over-reacting.”
“Someone like you doesn’t know how to look after a child,” she continues, cheeks growing redder.
“What do you mean ‘someone like me?’” She’s pissing me off now, and I wish I’d stayed out of her life.
“You don’t know what to do. When was the last time you looked after a kid?”
“I took her to the playground! What did you think I’d do? Take her to my drug dealer or leave her with a groupie? For fuck’s sake!” I stomp away, across the wood chip.
“Don’t swear around my daughter!” she yells after me.
I stop and turn. “At least I took Ella to the park!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
