Saturdays at Noon

by Marks, Rachel

Jake looks at me like I just suggested getting naked and having sex right here on the sand, but Alfie’s straight off, running towards the water.

  ‘Wait, Alfie!’ I run after him. ‘You need to take your trousers off.’

  He removes his trousers mid-run and leaves them lying on the sand halfway down the beach. Within seconds, he’s in the water, jumping over the line of white froth. I pull up the legs of my jeans so that they’re above my knees and follow Alfie in. The water’s icy and when it splashes against my shins, it makes my legs cramp.

  ‘It’s freezing.’

  Alfie looks at me, his face full of joy. ‘No, it’s not. Come on, let’s play chase the waves. We have to wait for one to come and then run away as fast as we can.’

  ‘OK.’

  While we wait for the next wave, I jig my legs around in the water to stop them from seizing up completely and landing me face-first on the seabed. Then a wave splashes down against the shore and we race each other back up the beach.

  Jake’s there waiting, his jeans rolled up. ‘I must be mad.’

  Then we all run in and wait for the next wave. When it comes, we charge back up on to the sand.

  ‘Can we do it again, Daddy?’

  Jake shivers loudly. ‘Go on, then.’

  ‘I’ll be back in a sec. I just want to get something,’ I say.

  ‘Oh yeah, good one. You suggest this, then abandon us.’

  I smile. ‘Promise I’ll be back in a minute.’

  I run back to the picnic mat, pull my camera out of my rucksack and zoom in on Jake and Alfie, staying back so that hopefully they can’t see what I’m doing. I take a few shots of them facing out to sea, the vast landscape surrounding them. And then I catch their faces as they turn, their laughter as they run away from the rolling waves. They look like something out of a lifestyle magazine. Handsome dad and son frolicking in the ocean, except the backdrop is a lot less tropical than it would be on a double-page spread. I scroll through the images and, happy that I’ve got some good ones, put my camera in my bag and go back to join them.

  By the time I get to the water’s edge, I can see Alfie is dripping wet and crying.

  ‘Oh no, what happened?’

  ‘He fell in. It’s OK. I’ve got a change of clothes in the bag.’

  ‘Wow, look at you, Super-organized Dad.’

  Jake licks his finger and then hisses as he puts it to his chest in an unbelievably camp gesture. ‘Check me out.’

  When we get back to the mat, Jake pulls out a towel and I wrap it around Alfie, then help to pull off his wet clothes from underneath. Once they’re off, he lowers himself into my lap. He’s shaking with the cold so I wrap my arms tightly around him. And I think it’s now, with the weight of his body against me and the sun shining on our faces, that I realize Nan was right – I do love this little boy, possibly more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And that causes a strange concoction of emotions to swirl around in my stomach, the predominant one being fear.

  ‘Ice cream?’ Jake rolls down his jeans, dries his feet and puts on his socks and trainers.

  Alfie jumps out of my lap. ‘Do we have to have lunch first?’

  ‘Nope. We’re on holiday, little man. Normal rules don’t apply.’

  Alfie does a little dance on the sand.

  ‘Come on,’ Jake says. ‘Get your clothes on. Let’s go.’

  ‘A sugary snack? Before lunch? Surely it isn’t so?’

  Jake shoots me a look, then dresses Alfie, while I put on my shoes and fold up the picnic blanket.

  We eat our ice creams on the wall, Alfie ending up with most of his on his face. When he’s right at the bottom of the cone, he holds it out to show me.

  ‘Look, I got the ice cream to the bottom, just like you taught me.’

  It’s funny the bits children take in. After school one day, I’d taken Alfie for an ice cream in the park. He’d moaned that he didn’t like the cone once the ice cream had all gone so I showed him how to push down with your tongue to get the ice cream all the way to the end. The fact that he’s remembered inexplicably makes me want to cry.

  ‘Well done, buddy.’ I turn to Jake. ‘Look, I’m going to let you two have some boy time. I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby about five and we can go and grab some food?’

  ‘No. I want you to come and help me build a sandcastle,’ Alfie says, listening in.

  ‘I’ve got a few things to do. Daddy will help you build your sandcastle.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll do that,’ Jake says. ‘Let Emily have some time on her own, Alfie. She doesn’t want to be stuck with us all day.’

  Alfie looks like he’s just discovered Santa’s not real and I feel terrible, but I have a sudden and desperate urge to get away.

  I bend down and meet Alfie’s eyes. ‘It’s not that. I love hanging out with you. It’s my favourite thing to do. I just need to do a few jobs. We’ll have fun at the pub later though, OK, buddy?’ I kiss him on the forehead. ‘I might have a special surprise with me for you.’

  Alfie’s face immediately transforms. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?’

  Alfie wiggles on the spot. ‘Please tell me.’

  Jake puts his hand on Alfie’s shoulder. ‘You’ll have to wait and see. Come on, let’s go and build that sandcastle.’

  I watch Alfie dragging his feet all the way back down to the beach, and then head into town where, thankfully, I find a Co-op. I buy a bottle of wine, making sure it’s got a screw top, and walk along to the headland, where I stop and sit on a bench overlooking the sea. I pull my phone out of my pocket and google train times, opening the bottle of wine and taking a large swig. I find a train that leaves the local station in the next hour, but then I spot Jake and Alfie, two dots surrounded by an expanse of sand, and I picture Alfie’s face if he were to turn up at the hotel and find me missing. I put my phone away, get up and leave the bottle of barely drunk wine by the foot of the bench.

  * * *

  ‘So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

  We’re at the pub. Alfie’s busy building the helicopter from the Scarecrow Fearful Face-Off Lego set I bought him while Jake and I scan the menu.

  I focus on the words in front of me. ‘Nothing. I’m fine.’

  Jake raises his eyebrows. ‘I might not know you that well, but I’m not stupid.’

  ‘You can’t say stupid,’ Alfie chips in. I hadn’t even realized he was listening.

  ‘Sorry, I meant silly. I’m not silly. One minute you’re like an excited kid, dragging us into the sea, the next you can’t get away from us quick enough. I’ve racked my brain but I can’t think of anything I might have said or done to upset you. I know it’s usually my fault.’

  I find the bits that Alfie needs for the next part of his build and put them next to the instruction booklet for him. ‘You didn’t do anything to upset me. I’m sorry. If you did know me better, you’d know that these kinds of little freak-outs are actually pretty common.’

  ‘Can you find me the next bits?’ Alfie says, having deftly put the other pieces on already.

  ‘You’re so speedy. I can’t keep up.’

  Alfie smiles and puffs out his chest, and I feel that pang of fear again, starting deep down in my tummy and rising into my throat. I try to wash it away with more wine.

  ‘So am I allowed to ask what the freak-out was about?’

  ‘You can ask.’

  Jake nods. ‘Fair enough.’

  The waitress comes over. Jake and I order a steak each and we get chicken nuggets for Alfie. When the waitress leaves the table, there’s a moment of awkward silence, Jake’s question lingering in the air like a burnt-out firework.

  ‘It just suddenly dawned on me that when your maternity cover finishes or Jemma comes home I’ll be out of a job.’

  Jake looks confused. ‘Don’t worry. I’d keep paying you until you found something else. You gave up your job for me. I’m not going to leave you in the lurch. Besides,
the way things are looking, I’ll have to find another job when this one’s up.’

  I can’t help it. I’m relieved. I don’t want Jemma to come home, even though that makes me feel terrible because I should want Alfie to have his mum back. I finish my glass of wine and Jake calls to the waitress to bring me another.

  ‘It’s not the money.’

  ‘Then what?’ I can see in Jake’s face that he suddenly understands. ‘You’d miss Alfie?’

  I glance at Alfie, who is fully absorbed with his Lego, and feel my eyes blurring. ‘Like crazy.’

  I can’t look at Jake as I say it. He reaches over and touches my hand, then rapidly moves it away again, like it gave him an electric shock. ‘Look, Em, you’ve got a friend for life there. There’s no way you’re getting rid of him, even if you stopped officially being his nanny. Why do you think I’m bothering to make friends with you? It’s only because I know we’re stuck with you now.’

  I smile and pull Alfie along the bench towards me. ‘How are you getting on with that helicopter, buddy?’

  Alfie holds it out for me to see. He’s nearly finished already.

  ‘Wow, that’s awesome.’

  Alfie points at the instruction booklet. ‘Look, we get to make pumpkin bombs next.’

  I squeeze him tight, then he wriggles out of my arms to continue building.

  I turn to Jake. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For introducing me to your son. I think he might just be my new favourite thing in the world.’

  ‘Well, the feeling’s mutual, that’s for sure.’

  Alfie stops building for a minute and looks up at me. ‘Will you spend all day with me tomorrow?’

  I nod. ‘Every second.’

  ‘As soon as I wake up?’

  Jake laughs. ‘Even Emily won’t want to see you as soon as you wake up, kiddo. How about we knock on Emily’s door on the way down to breakfast?’

  ‘What time will that be on Joker clock?’

  ‘I don’t know, Alfie. We’re not going to set a time. Let’s just see when we wake up and Emily can call us when she’s ready and then we’ll go down.’

  Alfie bangs his fist on the table. ‘But I need to know the time.’

  ‘Alfie, calm down,’ Jake says in a low voice. His eyes scan the pub. A few people glance over, an automatic reaction to the noise, but nobody seems bothered.

  Alfie swivels around on the bench so that he has his back to us.

  ‘Let’s say seven thirty, Alfie. That’s seven, three, then zero on Joker clock. If that’s OK with Daddy?’

  Jake nods, but I can see Alfie’s outburst has pissed him off.

  Alfie pauses for a moment, then turns his body back to face us. ‘Only if I can have croissant with Nutella for breakfast?’

  ‘I’m sure we can manage that, don’t you think, Daddy? As it’s a holiday?’

  ‘OK. As it’s a holiday.’

  The squall passes. Alfie alternates between eating and building and we manage to enjoy our steaks. By the time we get to the question of whether or not to have dessert, Alfie’s bubbling. It’s easy to spot now I know the signs. He’s jostling, going under the table and pulling our legs, climbing up on the table and tapping us on the head with his knife. It’s time to leave.

  I look at Jake. ‘Ice cream from the shop on the walk home?’

  Jake grabs his wallet. ‘Perfect. I’ll go and pay the bill.’

  Alfie peers out from underneath the table. ‘But I want ice cream here.’

  ‘Trust me, Alfie. I saw the ice creams at the shop earlier. They’re much better,’ I whisper to him, hoping he’ll feel like he’s in on a top secret.

  Alfie gives a comical evil smile. ‘OK. Shh.’

  I hold my finger up to my lips. When Jake returns, Alfie and I creep out of the pub like two burglars in a picture book minus the stripes, and Jake looks at us like we’ve lost the plot, making us both giggle.

  * * *

  Back at the hotel, Jake goes down to the bar to get us some drinks and I lie next to Alfie, downloading the images from today. He’s had three stories and a hot chocolate with four marshmallows (managing to wangle one more than my suggested three with the insistence that there needed to be an even number).

  As I watch the images flash up, I feel giddy, like I used to when I first discovered the joy of taking pictures. Before all the stuff with Alex made photography yet another thing tainted by my bad choices. There are a couple of images that I love. It’s nothing to do with my photography skills: Alfie’s an easy child to capture. As long as you get the light and the focus point right (not rocket science), his huge dark-brown eyes will always make for a striking photo. He and Jake look so happy, their faces a mirror of each other; I can’t help but smile looking at them.

  Once I’ve added the images to Lightroom, I find my favourite and begin editing it. There’s not much to be done. A little more contrast, slightly less exposure and just upping the clarity on Alfie’s eyes and it’s pretty much complete. I add a radial filter and lessen the sharpness of the background just to isolate Alfie and Jake a little more, and I’m done.

  Alfie pushes the cover off and then turns on to his back. Distracted by editing, I hadn’t noticed he was still awake. He stares at the ceiling as if it has a drawing on it he can’t quite make out.

  ‘You OK, Alfie?’ I brush his fringe off his face. ‘Is it a bit strange sleeping in a different bed?’

  ‘No. I can never get to sleep.’

  ‘Well, I’d just close your eyes and think of all the nice things we did today and all the adventures we are going to have tomorrow. You’ll fall asleep eventually.’

  ‘That’s what Daddy says. Doesn’t work, though.’

  I close my laptop, put my head on the pillow and snuggle up next to him. ‘Sometimes when I lie in bed, I can’t sleep either. My head gets too busy. Is that what happens to you?’

  Alfie nods. ‘Daddy says I have to switch my brain off, but I can’t. It’s just too full of worries.’

  ‘What kind of worries, buddy?’

  ‘Yesterday, Molly fell over and hurt herself and I’m worried I thought it was funny.’

  ‘Well, did you laugh?’

  Alfie shakes his head. ‘But my brain tells me I think it was funny. I don’t think I did. I don’t want Molly to cry. My brain just tells me I think that.’

  I feel a bit out of my depth. I’d expected being scared of the dark, monsters. But I’m not quite sure what to do with this. ‘I’m sure you didn’t think it. But don’t worry, we all think unkind things sometimes. Try to get some sleep.’

  Alfie’s eyes remain wide open.

  ‘Look, I’m not sure if this’ll work for you, but sometimes what I do is I imagine a special box in my head and I picture all the worries running around and I pick them up and put them in the box.’

  ‘Like the worries are little people, like Smurfs?’

  ‘Well, I hadn’t thought of it like that, but yeah, that’s a really good idea.’

  Alfie screws his eyes shut. ‘OK, I’ll try.’ Seconds later, he lets out a loud sigh. ‘It’s not working.’

  ‘OK, let me show you how.’ I close my eyes tight like he did. ‘Right, there’s a worry, got you. Another one, got you.’ I mime picking up the worries with my fingers. ‘No, worry, get in that box. It’s trying to escape, naughty thing. Get back in that box, you little monkey.’

  Alfie starts laughing.

  ‘Now it’s your turn. Close your eyes.’

  Alfie closes his eyes, trying to suppress his smile. ‘Go on, worry, get in that box,’ he says through splutters of laughter. ‘Stop running away.’

  I kiss him on the forehead and he opens his eyes. ‘See, your worries have gone away. Now, time for sleep or you won’t have enough energy to build our amazing sand Batcave tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Alfie says excitedly, ‘and then Joker can smash it down.’

  ‘Can’t wait. Batcave smashing sounds awesome. Night, buddy.’


  Alfie turns on to his side and I return to my editing.

  ‘Emily?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What if the sea washes away our Batcave when we’re still building it?’

  ‘It won’t. We’ll do it far enough away from the water’s edge.’

  ‘But what if a really big wave comes?’

  ‘We’ll do it so far away that even the biggest wave in the world couldn’t get it.’

  ‘But what if it does?’

  ‘Don’t worry, it won’t.’

  ‘But …’

  I place my hand on Alfie’s shoulder and then stroke my fingers up and down his arm. ‘Alfie, get some sleep. I promise I won’t let the sea ruin your Batcave.’

  Alfie yawns and rubs his eyes. After a while, he starts to give in to the exhaustion, his eyes getting heavy before his breathing changes and he finally drifts off. The door clicks and Jake appears with a pint of beer in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

  ‘Shh, he’s just gone,’ I whisper.

  Creeping over, Jake hands me my drink and sits on the bed on the other side of Alfie.

  ‘Well done. I thought he’d take ages to go down,’ Jake says in a low voice.

  ‘Must be the sea air.’

  Jake smiles and looks wistfully out the window. ‘You can’t beat the sea air.’

  I can see in his face how much he misses it. He’s talked before about how, since having Alfie, he never gets to surf or snowboard any more, and I always felt like he was being ungrateful, but now I see that was unfair. That it’s hard to give up the things you love, however valid the reason.

  ‘Why don’t you go for a surf tomorrow? Alfie and I are going to be busy sand-Batcave building, anyway.’

  ‘Oh, it’s OK. I didn’t bring my board. But thanks for the offer.’

  ‘Hire one. I saw a place right by the beach.’

  Jake seems to contemplate this for a few moments. ‘Well, if you’re sure? But I didn’t invite you here to be his nanny for the weekend.’

  ‘We’ll be glad to get rid of you. I insist.’

  Jake looks me directly in the eye and smiles. ‘OK. Thank you.’ Then he looks at my laptop screen and I realize I forgot to close it.

  ‘Wow, that photo’s amazing!’ He says it like he’s just realized I’m superhuman. ‘I didn’t know you were so talented.’