Page 67 of The Black Flamingo

---

I’ve got sunblock on but I

don’t think I really need it.

It’s like one of our better

summer days in England:

warm, not too hot to handle.

But we’re a long way from

the pebbles of Brighton.

Anna and I build our first

proper sandcastle together.

We dig a moat around it,

pour in the Mediterranean.

Daisy is studying

on her sunbed, surrounded

by books and index cards.

I was planning to study, too.

But now that we’re here it seems silly.

Daisy and I are both applying

to do English at university,

but not to any of the same places.

I shout over to Daisy: “Don’t you think

it could be fun if you came to Brighton?”

Daisy looks up and says bluntly,

“You know Brighton is of no interest to me.”

Anna giggles, and repeats,

“You know Brighton is of no interest to me.”

Daisy says, “Oi, are you making fun of me?”

She reaches down and grabs a handful

of sand and throws it in our direction.

Anna laughs and throws sand back at Daisy.

“Stop it!” says Mum, caught in the crossfire.

---