“I took the day off especially, as a surprise,” Thomas said. “I’m sure your mother will understand.”
Betty stopped herself from sucking in through her teeth. “I’ve already arranged to meet her there. We were going to get hot dogs and candy floss.”
Thomas pursed his lips. “Really? You want the girls to eat that stuff? Those types of places aren’t clean. And then, there’s the people...”
“What do you mean?”
“The awful types who run those places.” He sniffed. “I’m sure Martha and Lilian would prefer a lovely family picnic instead.”
Betty closed her eyes, feeling pulled in two between Thomas and her mother. “It is my birthday,” she whispered, to see if he might reconsider.
“Of course it is.” Thomas walked over and planted a kiss in her hair. “So, it’s totally your choice, birthday girl. I know you’ll make the right one.”
Martha folded her arms and huffed when Betty told her that they weren’t going to the fair. Lilian let out an indignant, “No.” She stomped around for a while and threw a doll on her bed.
Betty gritted her teeth while she made the sandwiches and sausage rolls. She picked up the phone and called her mother.
“Your husband thinks he’s in charge,” Zelda said, when Betty explained Thomas had taken time off work for a picnic. “The girls want to go to the fair.”
“It’s a beautiful day, and they’ll love sandwiches down on the—”
“It’s your day,” Zelda interrupted. “You should decide.”
Betty felt her temples begin to throb. “It’s fine, Mum. I don’t mind.”
“I wanted to take them for candy floss.”
“They can have an ice cream instead.”
“Okay then. I’ll get them a cone each with syrup and sprinkles. And a chocolate flake.”
Betty screwed an eye shut as a sharp pain pierced her forehead. “Um, I think Thomas wants the picnic to be for just the four of us.”
“Oh, just ignore him for once.” Zelda sighed. “I’m sure he won’t mind if I tag along, too.”
It had been a long, hot summer. Dogs panted into rock pools and lollies melted on their sticks as soon as their wrappers came off. Betty and Thomas carried the wicker picnic basket between them, holding a handle each. Betty’s head pounded as she spread out a tartan blanket on the sand and she wished she’d taken a paracetamol. She wriggled to get comfortable in her new dress.
Martha and Lilian discovered a broken purple bucket and spade and they started to play with them before their dad could tell them the toys were dirty.
Thomas sat in a deck chair with his ankles crossed. He wore his suit and work shoes even though the sun beat down, making sticky fingers out of his black hair.
Zelda appeared beside the mermaid statue and waved.
Thomas sat up taller and his eyes narrowed. “Is that bloody Zelda?”
“Um,” Betty glanced over. She hadn’t been able to find the words to tell him that her mother was coming along and she felt her shoulders shrink. “Oh yes, it is.”
“Did you invite her?”
Betty’s mouth grew dry as Thomas’s eyes bored into her. She jumped to her feet and waved both arms, an attempt to tell her mother not to buy any sweet stuff. They should eat the sandwiches first. But it was too late. Zelda vanished behind the ice cream van. “She kind of invited herself,” Betty said.
Zelda reappeared a few minutes later. Her long turquoise dress billowed in the breeze as she carried back five cones, each with two chocolate flakes and multicolored sugar sprinkles on top.
Martha and Lilian ran towards their nana and excitedly prized their cones from her fingers. They ran their tongues around the ice cream, catching the dribbles.
Thomas glowered, his face scarlet and shiny. He sniffed and looked away when Zelda offered him a cone. She shrugged and ate his, as well as her own.
After they finished the cones, Betty unpacked the sandwiches. They were met with little enthusiasm. “I’m too full,” Martha groaned, and Thomas gave Betty a knowing nod.
Lilian sat by Thomas’s feet with her cheek pressed against his trouser leg. She only took two bites of her sandwich, then traced her fingers lazily in the sand. Thomas reached out and ran his hand softly over the top of her hair.
Martha shoveled sand into the cracked bucket. She patted it down, then upturned the bucket. “Ta-da,” she said as she slid it off to reveal her creation. A corner of a turret slipped away, the sand too dry to take hold. “It’s Rapunzel’s castle, Mum.”
“It’s beautiful, darling,” Betty smiled.
Thomas lowered his paper. He leaned over and examined it. “Now, that’s not very good, is it? It’s falling down.” He lifted his leg and brought down the heel of his shoe, grinding the castle flat. “Try building another one.”
Martha stared at the ruins and then at her father. Her nostrils flared. She snatched up her sandwich and took a huge bite, staring at him and chewing with her mouth open.
Betty pushed her tongue against her teeth. Don’t say anything, she willed. Just leave it. She walked her fingers along the sand to take hold of Martha’s hand, but felt it snatch away.
“I passed by the funfair,” Zelda said as she bit into a sausage roll. “It looks ah-mazing. With a capital A.”
Thomas turned the page of his newspaper noisily.
“Yes, but, let’s stay here,” Betty said. “It’s so lovely, all sitting together in the sunshine.”
Zelda gave a small “Hmm,” then tossed her head. She picked up her bag and rooted around inside it. “I’ve brought your birthday present,” she exclaimed. “I almost forgot to give it to you.”
Martha and Lilian stopped what they were doing and shuffled forward on their knees. Zelda handed Betty a small silver package.
Betty took hold of it and squeezed. Thomas lowered his paper and peered over the top.
“Go on. Open it. The suspense is killing me.” Zelda laughed.
Betty slowly peeled off the tape and opened the paper. There was something small, red and satiny nestled inside. It seemed to have thin strings and see-through bits. Martha frowned at it, trying to make out what it was. When Lilian reached out with one finger to touch it, Betty quickly folded the paper up again. “That’s, um, lovely. Thanks, Mum.”
“Hold it up,” Zelda said. “You’ve not seen it properly. It’s all in one piece. When I saw it, I had to buy it for you. And no doubt, Thomas will benefit, too.” She gave an exaggerated cough and a speck of sausage roll pastry flew from her mouth, flecking Thomas’s trousers.
He looked down at it in disgust and held up his paper to cover his eyes.
Betty felt her cheeks burning. Why couldn’t her mother buy her bath salts or a nice scarf, something pretty that she couldn’t afford herself? She knew Thomas would hate the gift, especially as her mum had presented it in front of the girls.
She often felt like there was an electrical storm around him, and she could sense it crackling now, between him and Zelda. She wondered if her mother could feel it, too, but Zelda always seemed oblivious to the impact of her actions or words on others.
“Thank you,” Betty said again, and she shoved the red silky gift to the bottom of her handbag.
A little later, Betty watched as Zelda and Martha knelt down, their heads dipped into a huge hole, digging with their hands. The tightness of her dress prevented her from joining in.
“We’re going to find Australia soon,” Zelda shouted out. “Or hell. I think I can see the tips of the devil’s trident down here.”
Thomas glared in her direction but focused his attention on Betty instead. “Please do something about your mother. She’s always filling Martha’s head with nonsense.”
“They’re only playing, Thomas.”
“But it influences Martha to write those silly stories of hers.”
Betty counted to five silently in her head. “I’ll see if they want to do something else. We could maybe go and look inside the cave.”