“I told you there wasn’t much going on this time of year. But in the summer, I have to turn work away.”
“Okay, then, Wednesday it is,” I said. “Look, we’ve nothing much on, do you think Sam would like to come back with us for a bit.”
“I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance,” Helen said. She was right.
Back at our house we got Sam sat down and fed him a few sandwiches.
Mark sat on the sofa opposite Sam in the chair. “What’s all this about you ignoring Charlotte?”
“She’s a pain.”
“How do you mean?” I sat next to Mark and took his hand.
“She just cries, sleeps, cries again, craps her nappy, cries some more and drinks milk.”
“She’s a baby. I’m sure you did exactly the same when you were that age.” I smiled at him.
“I bet I didn’t cry as much.”
“If she had a loving brother who looked after her, perhaps she wouldn’t cry as much,” Mark said.
“I wish she was a boy.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Because when she gets older, all she’ll want to do is play with dolls and things.”