Infinite Sky

Winter comes in a rush. It seems to Adrian that he was kicking up autumn leaves just yesterday, yet today there’s a fine frost over the garden, coating the ivied wall with a gossamer sheen. The path is slippy and slidy and he skids his feet in all directions. It wasn’t like this last night. Maybe, he thinks, this is what grown-ups mean when they say ‘time flies’. The thought sobers him. He shivers indoors and shovels down cereal.

The last week of school is a blur of colouring placemats for the Christmas party and concert practice. Adrian’s class acts out the 12 Days of Christmas, and everyone roars with laughter at ‘six geese a-laying’. Going offstage Adrian waves at Mum, who’s recording the whole thing. He posts six cards in the box in the corridor and gets seven back, which pleases him, even though one is from his teacher. It’s the ugliest one with a boring robin motif, but Mum pops it on the mantelpiece with the others. They look pretty, like storybooks with enticing covers, only thin as a wafer.

At bedtime Dad comes in, holding an envelope.
“Guess what’s in here, champ?” he says.
Adrian shakes his head. There are too many possibilities.
Dad fans three cards in his hand like a conjuror. “Ta-da! We’re off to Spain, you and me and Mum, to get a nice tan for Christmas.”
Adrian begins to protest that he’ll miss the school party, but then he remembers last year, when he ate so many sticky toffees and strawberry jelly he felt sick. His friends had to play ‘Blind Man’s Buff’ without him. So he nods consent.

It’s time to go. Dad bundles everything into the car and they take a funny little bus from the car park to the airport. All the luggage has an X-ray. Adrian’s never been on a plane before, and it gives his tummy a funny hovering feeling. Mum makes him suck boiled sweets and his ears ‘pop’. Now he can concentrate on the view- puffy white clouds scudding through a baby-blue sky, thick enough to bounce on.

Spain envelops them in an embrace of muggy heat. Adrian, already drowsy, nods off in the taxi and awakes nestled in his own big bed. Bright sunlight streams in, turning everything golden. Mum puts on a flowery skirt and a frilly top that shows her shoulders. He’s astonished. It’s as if ‘Home Mum’ and ‘Holiday Mum’ are different people, like comparing Barbies. He says this at breakfast between mouthfuls of croissant. His parents laugh.

A blonde, dungareed girl his own age slams down her plate, yelling at her mum. He’s shocked at her rudeness. His mum would take away his bike for a week if he did that. But the shiny woman just laughs and ruffles the girl’s hair. She squirms away like an animal.

He sees her on the beach, squidging sand between her toes, alone. Mum is reading with sunglasses and Dad is snoring in a deckchair, so he approaches her.

“Hi.”
“Hi yourself.” Her hazel eyes squint at the shells in her hands, her nose crinkling.
Pause. “Saw you at breakfast. With your mum...”
“No, she’s Dad’s girlfriend. I hate her. Trying to be Mum.” She fiddles with her necklace, a glazed white gull, wings spread.
“Where’s your mum then?”
“Dead.”
Silence. Adrian can’t imagine what that must be like, nor how to proceed. Silently he produces Action Man. She looks at him and grins. They spend the afternoon drowning, burying and piling pebbles on Action Man, who gets steadily grubbier.
Her name’s Anabel. He says it before he sleeps, anticipating tomorrow.

Anabel has beads in her hair and prickly white sand all up her legs. Her mouth is sticky and red with ice-lolly dribbles. The sea rushes and roars, a monster ready to devour her. Her painted toes dig into the sand to anchor her there. Her face glows when she sees him. They
sort shells, making treasure troves, building castles, fingers touching. The world is theirs.

In this way, a week passes.

“You’re going home?” Anabel’s lip wobbles.
“Yes,” says Adrian. “But I’ll write. Honestly I will. But promise you will too.”
They link pinky fingers and solemnly promise.

A gull soars overhead, casting momentary shadow. Anabel holds out her necklace. Her eyes are wistful.
“She gave it to you, didn’t she?”
Anabel smiles in confirmation. They scramble down into the sand and lie hand in hand, under the infinite sky.