Page 18 of Riding the Waves

“We could,” Amy began, then stifled a laugh at the look of mock surprise and then delight on Damian’s features. “We don’t though.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Marty replied.

“It’s my bed,” Damian said in a silly voice. “I don’t want to share it, and your mum has a perfectly good bed at her place.” He scooped Marty up and deposited him on his shoulders.

Without having to go at Marty’s slow speed, they reached the house quickly. It was a middle house in a row of cottages, all with tiny front gardens bordered by a low stone wall. Opening the front door with its shiny blue paint, Damian smiled nervously at Amy.

“We were in a rush to get out of the door this morning. Ignore the mess.”

She nodded her agreement and followed the boys inside.

“Can you come up and see our room?” Billy asked, pulling on her hand.

“Give me a minute. I’ve seen it before anyway. Lots of times.” She’d never stayed for long, but of course she’d hung around for a little while whenever she’d been picking up or dropping off the boys over the years.

“We’ve got bunk beds now!” Billy told her giddily. “And Daddy painted the walls so it looks like the sea with surfers on it. And there are clouds at the top and seagulls too.”

“That makes it sound way more arty than it is,” Damian told her. “I painted it blue and added some of those wall sticker things.”

“It’s really cool,” Marty said.

“Sounds as though you’ve been busy,” Amy said to Damian.

“I thought bunk beds would be better now they’re bigger. Gives them more space to play up there.”

“Good idea.”

“Anyway.” He clapped his hands together. “You have a look at that and I’ll see what I can find for dinner.”

“You said we could have pizza,” Billy told him.

Damian grimaced. “I think I said we could have pizza one day. I don’t think I meant tonight.”

“You said tonight!” Billy insisted.

“You did, Daddy.” Marty looked up at him with big eyes. “When we were having breakfast you asked what we wanted for dinner tonight and we said pizza.”

“I was probably only half awake.” Damian looked like a deer in the headlights. “I think it would be good to have something healthier than pizza.”

“Dad!” both boys complained at once.

“Pizza sounds good to me,” Amy said.

“Fine.” Damian flashed the boys a stern look. “But you can’t eat junk food every day.”

The boys let out triumphant cheers and thundered up the stairs.

“Come on,” Marty called to Amy from the top. “You have to see our room. It’s so cool.”

He was right; it did look cool. All bright and fresh with much more floor space for them to play. Amy hovered by the window, looking out towards the beach and the sea – the place where she’d first met Damian.

“Look at all our new toys,” Billy said, snapping her from her trance. She sank onto the carpet with the two of them, noticing the suitcase at the side of the room. It was overflowing with the clothes that she’d neatly folded and packed for the boys.

Marty shoved some sort of Transformer toy under her nose just as Damian arrived in the doorway.

“Pizza will be ready in fifteen minutes,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Mummy, look,” Billy said, scrabbling up the ladder to the top bunk. “We got new bedding. It’s got the sea on it and boats.”

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