of the unending rain. We’ve passed the time playing a billion hands of Uno, which is the only game Mum appears to have bought with us.
Crazy times, people.
“We were starting to get worried,” Clare says, as we go out to greet them. “Everything all right?”
“What, you mean apart from having to do a two and a half hour round trip, then sitting in A & E for an hour, only to be seen by a doctor for ten minutes who told us Amber probably has indigestion but needs monitoring for hours just to be sure?” Dad huffs.
“It could have been anything,” Mum says, as Amber hefts herself out of the car. “It’s better to be safe than sorry where babies are concerned.”
“Not to mention having to look all over town for hours trying to find a flipping pet shop, and somewhere to get plastic cutlery and crockery,” Dad continues. He’s clearly on a roll. “And finding somewhere Amber would agree to eat.”
“I didn’t know what I wanted,” Amber says. “And actually, now I come to think of it, I’m hungry again. And tired. I think I’m going to go and have something to eat, then a sit down.”
“You do what you need to, love,” Mum says. “It’s important you rest.”
“I thought of some new names while we were out,” Amber says, grabbing a huge bag of crisps from the cupboard. “What do you think of Cloud and Storm? Or Phoenix and Flame? For boys, obviously.”
Flame?
Is she planning on giving birth to an American wrestler?
“No?” Amber says, crunching disappointedly when nobody responds. “None of them?”
“Any thoughts on what to have for dinner?” Mum asks, diplomatically changing the subject.
“Not yet,” Clare says. “We didn’t know what time you’d be back, and we didn’t have anything to eat with, or off…”
“Let’s build a fire and cook something on it,” Dad says. “If we start now, we should have a good blaze going for an hour or so when it’s dinner time. Did you bring burgers and sausages?”
“I did,” Mum says. “And we’ve got burger buns, and some salad, and now we’ve even got plastic plates to eat them off…”
“Pah, salad,” Dad scoffs. “Who needs lettuce when we’ve got meat? Right, now we need to gather some wood. Girls, it’s stopped raining, so why don’t you go out and get some?”
“Er, we’ve got a perfectly good gas cooker in the caravan,” I point out. “We can do the burgers and sausagesunder the grill in super quick time. What do we need firewood for?”
“Suzy, Suzy, Suzy,” Dad says. “We are
camping
. We can cook on gas at home. But here, under the instruction of your mother, we are getting back to nature, and embracing the elements. Therefore, we will cook on fire. For which we need wood.”
“Give us some money, then,” I say. “They sell it by the entrance.”
“Buy it?” Dad says. “We’re surrounded by trees. Why would we pay for wood?”
“Um, because the signs all over the place say you’re not to collect firewood?” Isabella says.
“And Devon told us not to?” I add.
“Of course he did,” Dad says. “But that’s because he’s onto a nice little earner, isn’t he, getting people to buy sticks from him.”
“Actually, I think it’s something to do with making sure the wood’s safe to burn, and maintaining the local ecosystem,” Clare tells him.
Dad waves his hand dismissively. “Where do you think Devon gets his wood from, for goodness sake? Man has been collecting wood since time began. That’s what trees are there for. Burning.”
We all look at him incredulously.
“Well, that and the oxygenating of the planet, or whatever it is those greenies bang on about,” Dad says. “Now look. It’s getting cold, and I want a campfire and something to eat later. Off you go, girls.”
“I don’t think so,” says Isabella. “I painted my nails earlier. I’m going to read my magazine.”
And with that she disappears into her tent, leaving Millie and me staring after her
Crazy times, people.
“We were starting to get worried,” Clare says, as we go out to greet them. “Everything all right?”
“What, you mean apart from having to do a two and a half hour round trip, then sitting in A & E for an hour, only to be seen by a doctor for ten minutes who told us Amber probably has indigestion but needs monitoring for hours just to be sure?” Dad huffs.
“It could have been anything,” Mum says, as Amber hefts herself out of the car. “It’s better to be safe than sorry where babies are concerned.”
“Not to mention having to look all over town for hours trying to find a flipping pet shop, and somewhere to get plastic cutlery and crockery,” Dad continues. He’s clearly on a roll. “And finding somewhere Amber would agree to eat.”
“I didn’t know what I wanted,” Amber says. “And actually, now I come to think of it, I’m hungry again. And tired. I think I’m going to go and have something to eat, then a sit down.”
“You do what you need to, love,” Mum says. “It’s important you rest.”
“I thought of some new names while we were out,” Amber says, grabbing a huge bag of crisps from the cupboard. “What do you think of Cloud and Storm? Or Phoenix and Flame? For boys, obviously.”
Flame?
Is she planning on giving birth to an American wrestler?
“No?” Amber says, crunching disappointedly when nobody responds. “None of them?”
“Any thoughts on what to have for dinner?” Mum asks, diplomatically changing the subject.
“Not yet,” Clare says. “We didn’t know what time you’d be back, and we didn’t have anything to eat with, or off…”
“Let’s build a fire and cook something on it,” Dad says. “If we start now, we should have a good blaze going for an hour or so when it’s dinner time. Did you bring burgers and sausages?”
“I did,” Mum says. “And we’ve got burger buns, and some salad, and now we’ve even got plastic plates to eat them off…”
“Pah, salad,” Dad scoffs. “Who needs lettuce when we’ve got meat? Right, now we need to gather some wood. Girls, it’s stopped raining, so why don’t you go out and get some?”
“Er, we’ve got a perfectly good gas cooker in the caravan,” I point out. “We can do the burgers and sausagesunder the grill in super quick time. What do we need firewood for?”
“Suzy, Suzy, Suzy,” Dad says. “We are
camping
. We can cook on gas at home. But here, under the instruction of your mother, we are getting back to nature, and embracing the elements. Therefore, we will cook on fire. For which we need wood.”
“Give us some money, then,” I say. “They sell it by the entrance.”
“Buy it?” Dad says. “We’re surrounded by trees. Why would we pay for wood?”
“Um, because the signs all over the place say you’re not to collect firewood?” Isabella says.
“And Devon told us not to?” I add.
“Of course he did,” Dad says. “But that’s because he’s onto a nice little earner, isn’t he, getting people to buy sticks from him.”
“Actually, I think it’s something to do with making sure the wood’s safe to burn, and maintaining the local ecosystem,” Clare tells him.
Dad waves his hand dismissively. “Where do you think Devon gets his wood from, for goodness sake? Man has been collecting wood since time began. That’s what trees are there for. Burning.”
We all look at him incredulously.
“Well, that and the oxygenating of the planet, or whatever it is those greenies bang on about,” Dad says. “Now look. It’s getting cold, and I want a campfire and something to eat later. Off you go, girls.”
“I don’t think so,” says Isabella. “I painted my nails earlier. I’m going to read my magazine.”
And with that she disappears into her tent, leaving Millie and me staring after her
Similar Books
