“She doesn’t have a goldfish.”
“I know. It was jellyfish or bust, apparently.” He shrugged and rested his arm across the back of the sofa. “Will you join us? She’ll probably talk me into getting something extremely unhealthy for dinner where there’s likely to be ice-cream.”
“Oh, ice-cream? Now you’re talking.” I pushed my hair back from my face. “Sure. I haven’t really been out much since I got here, and that sounds nice. Plus, it might give me some ideas for future lessons to engage her.”
“No. No working.”
“Sorry, I can’t turn this off.” I tapped my brain. “Unless I have to write some on my book, then it won’t turn on.”
His laugh was low and worthy of a thousand belly butterflies. “How is your book going?”
“I was in a wonderful mood until you asked that.”
“Sorry. Should I not bother asking you about the book?”
“It depends. If it’s the first ten thousand words, it’s amazing and the book is amazing and I’m the greatest author ever. After that, it’s all a pile of bloody rubbish that should be burnt at the stake, except for that one line that’s pure magic and can stay.”
“That sounds like a terrifying rollercoaster.”
“It is. And that’s just the first quarter. Don’t even bother asking about the rest. It gets worse.”
He looked down, laughing, and shook his head. “You really do need to get out, don’t you?”
I sighed. “I really do.”
CHAPTER THREE – ADELAIDE
The village town of Whitborough was nestled in the foothills of the expansive Bentley estate, and it was exactly the kind of place you’d see in a cute British TV show with an overabundance of murders.
It was full of adorable little Cotswold-esque rows of cottages and terraced houses with adorable, well-tended gardens and paved streets with no driveways. Small alleyways stretched off between end-terrace houses that gave access to the back gardens, and little sections of the paths and roads in the village centre were cobbled and uneven, adding to the charm of the streets.
Detached farmhouses and cottages were visible as we moved closer to the edge of the village, and we were soon surrounded by rolling green fields with herds of cows and flocks of sheep. The view was broken only by large barns and ponds and the sight of tractors trawling through the fields.
Even the dark clouds that slowly let go of misty rain couldn’t dull Whitborough’s beauty.
Unfortunately, we had to venture outside the beautiful village to get to the aquarium—but not too far.
Olympia practically bounced in the backseat the entire way to the point I thought she would break her booster seat. No matter how much she insisted she didn’t need it, she was under both the age and the height limit and that was that.
We passed the sign that welcomed us to Chesterbury and took the third exit from the roundabout. Another sign swiftly directed us to the Chesterbury Aquarium, and Alexander made the turn towards the building with a giant fish above the sign.
That was one way to grab people’s attention, I suppose.
A giant clownfish was rather in-your-face.
Alexander parked in an empty space, and we all got out of the car. The car park was almost full, and although I despised the idea of being surrounded by so many people at any one time, I really did need to get out.
And although I’d driven through Whitborough several times, I’d never actually stopped and explored. I was going to have to make a point to do that, but for now, the aquarium would suffice.
Olympia grabbed my hand and wrapped her fingers around mine. Alexander pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans and tapped at it, then offered it to the young woman behind the reception desk. She scanned his phone while I pursed my lips—those were our tickets, and I didn’t know he’d already bought them.
“You’re good to go. Here’s a list of talks for this afternoon in case you’d like to sit in on any. I’d recommend the shark talk and feeding in the auditorium at three-thirty, but it fills up fast so get there early.” She handed him a leaflet. “Other than that, if you need to leave for any reason, please see the desk, and we’ll stamp your hand so you can get back in easily. Do you have any questions?”
“Can we see the sharks get fed, Papa?” Olympia asked Alexander.
He smiled. “Of course we can. Thank you,” he said to the woman behind the counter. “Come on, then. Let’s go.” He ushered us off towards the path that would start our journey through the aquarium, and Olympia bounced from my hand to his and dragged him along.
“Jellyfish! I want to see the jellyfish!” She tugged hard on his arm.
“Ow, ow, Oly.” He put his hand on top of hers and stopped, pulling her off the side. “We’ll see the jellyfish, but we’re not rushing, all right?”