Operation Eiffel Tower by Elen Caldecott

Jack’s hair. Then he looked up. ‘Cup of tea?’ he asked. ‘Or coffee? I’ve got little individual sachets of milk. But you’ll have to share a cup.’
    Jack shook his head. So did Lauren.
    ‘Well,’ Dad said.
    Lauren and Jack glanced at each other, then looked away quickly.
    ‘Well,’ Dad said again. ‘How is everyone? How’s your mum?’
    ‘OK.’
    ‘And Ruby and Billy? They couldn’t come with you?’
    ‘No, they weren’t allow—’ Lauren paused. ‘They couldn’t come. They were busy. They’ll come next time.’
    Jack frowned. There were too many lies flying about the place, like midges, getting in his eyes and mouth. He wanted to spit.
    ‘They’re busy?’ Dad asked. He didn’t sound like he believed Lauren.
    She nodded.
    Dad didn’t say anything.
    ‘Is it OK here?’ Jack asked finally.
    ‘Oh, it’s OK. The breakfast was good this morning. It will do until I find something better.’
    ‘Are you coming back?’ Jack blurted. Lauren scowled at him.
    ‘I . . . I don’t know, son. Not for a bit at least. Me and your mum – well, it just isn’t working at the minute. Look, let me get you some tea.’
    Dad stood up and started messing around with the kettle. He had his back to them and Jack thought he looked stiff and awkward, as though he didn’t know what to do with himself.
    ‘It’s complicated,’ Dad suddenly said softly. ‘Me and Caro, we just – I don’t know. It isn’t like it used to be, that’s all. When we were young, when the dinosaurs roamed the earth, it was fun. We laughed a lot.’
    Jack found that hard to imagine.
    Dad squeezed a tea bag against the side of the mug and dropped it into the bin. He opened a tiny plastic carton and poured the milk in. ‘The day I asked her to marry me – it’s right up there in the top five days of my life. I got her this tiny diamond ring – it was all I could afford then. But she took it and wore it for a year before we’d saved up enough to get married.’
    ‘I remember,’ Lauren said.
    ‘Of course, sweetheart. You were my little princess then. You still are. You were so sweet in your bridesmaid’s dress. And Paul was a pageboy. Seems like a lifetime ago. That day was the number one day of my life. Your mum looked beautiful. And I swapped the diamond ring for a gold one and we danced the first dance in front of everyone. Then – do you remember, Lauren? – I got up with the band and sang to her. It was a surprise. She did most of the planning for the wedding but she didn’t know about that. I got up and sang ‘Love Me Tender’. It was an old song even then, but it was just right.’ Dad started singing the first few lines of the song, but his voice cracked and shook too much to hear the tune properly.
    Jack looked at the dark brown tea Dad gave him. He didn’t want to drink it, but he didn’t want to put it down either. He just held the mug and stared. A film of grease floated on the top.
    ‘Look, Dad,’ Lauren said, ‘can we go for a walk or something? No offence, but it’s depressing in here.’
    ‘Of course,’ Dad said quietly. ‘We can take a walk on the front.’
    ‘No,’ Jack said suddenly. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he didn’t want to see the families on the beach today. He handed the mug of tea to Lauren. ‘Can’t we just stay here for a bit?’ he asked.
    Lauren took the tea, then shrugged. ‘Fine.’
    Jack wriggled off his trainers then leaned back on the bed. It smelled of Dad. He bundled the corner of the blanket into a ball and held it close to his chest. He was as bad as Billy with Teddy Volvo, but he didn’t care. He tucked his legs up to his tummy so that his whole body was wrapped round the bedclothes.
    ‘Tired, son?’ Dad asked. ‘We could stay here and watch a bit of telly. I get three and a half channels on this bad boy.’ Dad patted the old square TV at the end of the bed.
    Jack wondered what they had talked about before, him and Dad, before Dad moved out. It was only a