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“I’m tired!” Ella says to her mum. “Can you carry me?”
“You shouldn’t have got up so early,” says Cerys. “You’ll have to walk; it’s not far.”
I catch sight of a couple of teenage girls across the street who’ve stopped and are staring at me. Each minute that passes, the harder I want to smack myself. I’m not Dylan or Jem, but I’m the bassist in the biggest rock band in the world.
What the fuck am I doing by pretending I’m some average guy visiting his hometown for Christmas?
“I can put Ella on my shoulders if that’s okay? Seriously, I want out of here as soon as possible.” I incline my head toward the girls. If we wait another minute, one of them will start taking pictures.
Cerys nods and I lean down to Ella. “Are you okay to sit on my shoulders?”
Ella beams. “Please!”
We head down the street at a pace Cerys struggles to keep up with, the giggling child clinging to my head.
“Look!” Ella tugs my hair and I wince and stop.
Her favourite pigs are on display in the window and we pause to look. I roll my eyes at Cerys. The soft look Cerys gave me a couple of days ago when I gave in to Ella over the TV is back. To my surprise, she reaches out and squeezes my hand.
“You’re a good guy, Liam, thank you.”
Women are confusing.
And I need to get home.
