Sarah blew a strand of pale pink hair off one eye, and reached out her arms. ‘I’ll take him. He gets like this sometimes. It’s not right, a four-year-old stuck in a café with boiling oil, sharp knives and shelves full of sweets. A few minutes to calm down’ll sort him.’ She grimaced as he stopped struggling, his cries settling into big, jerking sobs. ‘The problem is, that lot won’t wait a few minutes, and neither will them burgers on the grill.’
‘I can help,’ I said.
Sarah lifted her head up. ‘Are you sure? I can’t pay you or anything.’
‘How about a mug of soup and another coffee?’
She closed her eyes, shoulders dropping six inches. ‘The pinnies are in the drawer by the sink.’
* * *
An hour later, I sat at a bench sipping my soup watching Edison cavort about the Common with a group of boys. The Common, I had picked up, was the actual name for this clearing, which explained the café’s name. These new boys were triplets, judging by the identical copper-brown hair in various states of disarray and three pairs of slanted blue eyes. Watching them play together felt like a designer stiletto stomping on my bruised heart.
The triplets had arrived with a woman and a man, along with a slightly older girl and a boy around eleven, now building a den with fallen branches. It didn’t take much earwigging to deduce that this was all one family. I felt overwhelmed just watching them.
Once the den stood complete, the younger boys tossed their pretend swords away and scampered inside. They called for their mum to join them, and she persuaded the little girl to go in as well. Once the whole family – and Edison – had squeezed in, the man’s head nearly poking out at the top, somebody requested a photograph. The woman beckoned me over, saying, ‘Excuse me, would you mind?’ and handed me her phone.
Holding the screen up, I took a moment to focus on this gaggle of smiling, windswept faces. The older children, slender like their father, with the same flyaway blond hair. The mother, beaming as she wrapped strong arms around her wriggling triplets. Edison crouching in front of them. Somebody made a joke at the very second I clicked, capturing the moment the family collapsed into laughter, knocking the den over in the process.
At that point, the oldest boy burst into angry tears, shouting and kicking at the fallen sticks. Illusion of perfect family bliss shattered, the man bent down to speak with him while the mum hurried over to retrieve her phone.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ I said, showing her. ‘You have a wonderful family.’ The stiletto stabbed me once again.
She grinned. ‘Thanks. They keep me busy, but days like today make it all worth it.’ She tipped her head on one side. ‘Are you a friend of Sarah’s?’
I made a wilful effort to slam the lid on the ugly box of memories that watching this family had opened in my brain. ‘I hope so. A new friend, anyway. I moved here a couple of days ago.’
‘Oh! Charlotte Meadows’ old place. I heard about that. You’re not afraid of hard work, then.’
I shrugged. ‘No. Unfortunately I am afraid of spiders, rats, mice and bacterial poisoning. I’m just hoping that somewhere in there a lovely cottage is hiding.’
At that point, two of the triplets rushed up and threw themselves at her, one on each leg. ‘Mum! Mum! Can we have a cake ’cos Dad says if you say we can then we can ’cos Dawson won’t stop crying ’cos he hates the Common and wants to go home.’
‘Hang on, boys. I’m talking.’ She began untangling them from her skirt. ‘I’d better go. Nice to meet you, though. I’m Ellen Cameron.’
‘Jenny.’
‘Bye, Jenny. I’m sure we’ll see you around.’
* * *
Sarah gave Edison a packet of mini crackers to eat while we cleaned up.
‘Thanks again. It’s a nightmare having to bring him to work. I don’t know what’s worse, risking him running off into the woods, or cooping him up within spitting distance of a scalding chip pan.’ She scrubbed harder at the griddle. ‘I couldkillSean.’
‘Who?’
‘Sean. His dad. I would never say this in front of Edison, but he’s a total dud. Usually my mum helps out, but she’s gallivanting round the world on a cruise.’
‘And Sean was supposed to watch him?’
‘Yeah, but of course he cancelled last minute, like a typical dud.’
‘Did he have a good reason?’
‘That depends if you think hanging out at the bookies is a good reason to ditch your only child. Or going out getting bevvied. Maybe he was too busy slobbing in bed.Waster.’
‘Are you together?’
