‘Alice?’ Zac’s voice sounded tentative. Concerned. ‘You’ve gone really pale. Are you OK?’
‘No,’ I blurted. How many ordeals in one day was a person supposed to be able to cope with? ‘I’ve had a really shitty day, that’s all.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘Talk about it?’ I stared down at our joined hands, the only connection we had left, and bit back a sob. What was it about him had that allowed him to get under my skin? ‘I can’t even look at you any more.’
‘Is this because of—’
‘Just forget it.’ I snatched my hands back and stumbled to my feet. The wide open space of the park now suffocated me and I yearned for the sanctuary of my room. ‘I’m sorry you got caught up in my latest crisis, Zac.’
‘What crisis?’
I ignored him and made a beeline for Charlie. ‘We need to go now, Charlie Bear.’
He looked up from my phone which he’d obviously found. ‘But we haven’t had our picnic yet,’ he said, his eyes beseeching mine.
A tear spilled onto my cheek but I dashed it away with the back of my fingers. ‘I know, and I’m sorry.’ Yet again. I’d done nothing but apologise all day.
‘Is that why you’re crying again?’ He hadn’t bought the shampoo theory then?
‘A little bit,’ I said, forcing a smile onto my face for his sake. ‘I really need to go home but how about a movie afternoon instead? And we could have our picnic on the floor?’
‘Yay!’
‘Come on then, let’s get out of here.’ I turned to leave but found Zac stood right behind me with his arms crossed in front of him.
‘What about your hands?’ he asked.
‘I’m sure I’ll survive,’ I said, throwing his own words back at him again. Uncanny how I could remember nearly everything he’d said, word for word.
‘Did you walk here then?’
‘No, I dro—’ My shoulders slumped and jogged another tear free. I couldn’t possibly drive a car. We were trapped.
‘Where are your keys?’ Zac asked, interpreting the rest of my sentence.
‘In the front pocket of my rucksack. Why?’
‘Great. I’ll drive.’
‘But—’
‘Do you have any better ideas?’ He strode towards my bag then hitched it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing, scooping up the blanket in the same movement. ‘Charlie, can you grab the ball for me please, mate?’
Charlie of course obliged—the traitor—and happily trotted back towards the car with Zac. Just like that, he had assumed leadership. I ought to have kicked up a stink rather than set the women’s lib movement back to the Fifties but after the day I’d had, Zac was welcome to take control. They both stopped and looked back once they realised I wasn’t with them.
‘Alice?’ Zac called.
‘Coming,’ I said, breaking into a trot to catch up.
The damage might have been done but there was still a chance I could fix it. No matter what, I didn’t want Zac to leave with a bad opinion of me, regardless of how true it might be with everybody else.
Patient
Charlie ran on ahead; this time on a mission to collect every single red leaf that had fallen so I fell in step beside Zac, maintaining an appropriate distance from him. We walked together in amiable silence but it wasn’t long before my legs reminded me of their close encounter with the branch. The backs of my calves and the insides of my knees and thighs stung as if I’d been attacked by a porcupines.
Every time they brushed together, I had to swallow a yelp and ended up walking like some macho cowboy. Either that or a heavily pregnant woman. Zac’s guard remained up for the whole walk but at least he’d stuck around. When we arrived at the car park, his feet dragged to a stop and he whipped his head around to face me.
‘I’ve got to drive that?’ he asked, thumbing towards the only vehicle parked there.
‘What’s wrong with my car?’
‘It’s…’ He swallowed. ‘Pink.’
‘Yes, it is.’ Thank goodness I’d mastered deadpan. A bit of banter might just help get things back to how they’d been before I’d fucked up. It certainly couldn’t do any more harm.
‘You drive a bright-pink car.’
‘Full marks for observation but I prefer to think of it as hot pink. It sounds less garish, don’t you think?’
‘Hot pink?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And I’ve got to drive it?’
I shrugged, refusing to let my lips even so much as twitch. ‘Only if you’re man enough. Now, if you could just unlock the doors so we can get in?’ At my request, the locks whirred and the lights flashed. ‘Thank you.’ I walked over to the car, grateful to have my back to Zac for a moment. My jaw ached from biting back my grin. ‘OK, Charlie Bear, you know the drill,’ I said, gingerly opening the passenger door.
Charlie didn’t quibble over getting in whereas Zac continued to stare at my car, apparently traumatised. He still hadn’t moved by the time I’d smashed up my hands some more getting Charlie clipped into his car seat.
‘Is there a problem, Zac?’
‘Huh?’ He mentally shook himself before my eyes. ‘No, no, not at all.’
‘Glad to hear it.’ I carefully lowered myself into the passenger seat for what had to be the first time ever. ‘I wouldn’t want a four year old to show you up, after all. If you ask nicely, maybe he’ll share some testosterone with you?’
I had to turn away to hide the massive grin splitting my face so I didn’t get to see Zac’s reaction but, within seconds, the driver’s door opened. Zac sank into the vacant driving seat without saying a word and slid the key into the ignition just as Charlie piped up from the rear.
‘What’s testos…test…test-oster-thingie?’
Perfect. It gave me the excuse to avoid detection for a little longer so I spun around in my seat to answer. ‘Testosterone, Charlie, is the stuff that separates the men from the boys,’ I said, shooting him a wink.
‘Hey, I saw that.’ Zac jabbed me in the thigh with his index finger and set free a wave of hope that my redemption plan could work.
‘And if you’re a real man,’ I continued, ignoring Zac’s interruption, ‘then you’re more than macho enough to wear pink clothes and drive pink cars without worrying about corrupting your manhood.’
‘I’ve got a pink shirt,’ Zac protested. ‘And a tie with some pink in it.’
‘Excellent, then this should be a doddle. Let’s go…’
Zac gnashed his teeth together and grumbled something under his breath but he reached behind for the seatbelt and buckled up. ‘Do you need a hand with yours?’ he asked. ‘If you’ll pardon the pun.’
‘That would be good, thank you. I think I managed to rip even more skin off when I sorted Charlie’s.’