Poles Apart

Unable to watch anymore without speaking, I cleared my throat. “It takes a real man to drink from a pink cup at a toddler tea party,” I teased.

Carson jumped, and his head snapped up. His mouth popped open before he laughed sheepishly, and a huge grin spread across his face. “Busted. I like tea parties, so sue me.”

“Very cute,” I teased, smirking at him. He shrugged, not even seeming bothered. “So, what’s this I heard about going to the beach?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Beeeeeeeeeeeeeach!” Sasha screamed at the top of her lungs, which made a dull thump come from Rory’s room and then a groan of pain. Carson and I both burst out laughing because Sasha’s screaming had obviously caused her uncle to fall out of his bed.

IT TOOK JUST UNDER TWO HOURS of driving before we arrived at Clacton-on-Sea. Thankfully, Sasha had fallen to sleep after an hour, so the drive was pretty peaceful in Carson’s massive four-by-four with the plush leather seats. It was nice, and us talking so much the night before meant I didn’t feel as awkward around him. We seemed to have made some peace last night and bonded over a bottle of champagne and a mutual dislike of designers. The drive time seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye.

After pulling in at the car park and buying an all-day ticket, the three of us set off to find the beach. On the way, Carson stopped and took Sasha into one of the little shops, buying buckets and spades, sand moulds and various other toys for her to play with. The ecstatic grin on his face as he helped her pick out what she wanted was enough to melt my heart. Clearly, spending money on her and giving her things was going to be one of life’s pleasures for him.

When we stopped at the steps and looked down at the beach, Sasha’s excited babble seemed to crank up a couple of notches as she pointed at the sea, her eyes wide. Smiling, I kicked off my shoes and rolled up my jeans before bending and doing the same to Sasha’s.

“Shame it’s not that warm. We’ll have to come back in the summer or something so we can go in the sea,” Carson mused, kicking off his trainers.

I frowned, shaking my head. “You can’t go in the sea. There are fish in there, and crabs.”

He chuckled, taking Sasha’s hand and helping her down the concrete steps. “Don’t tell me, you don’t like fish or crabs?”

Crinkling my nose in distaste, I shook my head. “Not unless they’re covered in batter and come with chips.”

Carson chuckled. “Well, I’m taking Sasha crabbing later, and you’re coming, so you’re going to have to get over this little issue pretty quickly.” He winked at me before smiling down at his daughter as she jumped the last step and landed onto the cool yellow sand, immediately wriggling her toes and giggling excitedly.

When she plopped down onto her bum and demanded one of the buckets, Carson swept her into his arms, juggling all the stuff he was carrying so he could hold her. “Let’s go further up the beach, sweetness; we don’t have to sit right on the steps. We’ll pick out a nice quiet spot and set the blanket out, and then me and you, we’re making the biggest, most-extravagant sandcastle Clacton-on-Sea has ever seen!” he joked.

I had to chuckle at his enthusiasm. It was like he’d opened his mouth and his inner child had tumbled out.

MY DAY WAS FULL OF LAUGHTER, smiles and sandcastle competitions. Carson seemed to go out of his way to ensure Sasha and I had a nice time. We paddled on the edge of the sea, running away from the waves, collected shells and pretty pebbles, built sandcastles and moats. We ate ice cream and hot doughnuts, and we’d even gone on the pier rides for a little while. It was lovely just to spend the day together and to do things I could never normally afford to do. Sasha and I even had our first go on a merry-go-round together while Carson stood at the side, taking photos and waving to Sasha each time she went past him.

After chips on the beach, Carson had made good on his promise of teaching Sasha how to go crabbing. That was my least enjoyable part of the day – especially when he’d caught a particularly large one and chased me around the pier with it while I howled with terrified laughter. All in all my day was amazing, and it was a shame to go home at the end of it.

Spending quality family time with Carson and watching him interact with his daughter had easily been the best part of the day for me. Every time they laughed together, every time she smashed down one of his castles while he was mid-build, every time he tickled her and made her smile just warmed my whole body from the inside out. I loved it all.

Carson and I had gotten along famously all day long, joking and talking and laughing. It was nice because while we were there, we had no pressure on us, no one watching us, no one judging us at all. There were no complications, no paparazzi, no ill feelings – just two people with a mutual love of the same child all spending the day together. I didn’t want it to end.

The following day, we’d elected to stay in London, taking a picnic to Hyde Park. After eating, we’d visited some of the more tourist aspects of the city that I’d never really had the time nor the money for. Carson went above and beyond to make the two days spectacular. Sasha was now well and truly a daddy’s girl – and the feeling was certainly reciprocated. Seeing him wrapped around her little finger was the most adorable sight I’d ever seen.

That night, he’d been a little deflated, though. As I’d helped him pack up a few things for him to take to Italy, he’d seemed a little sad. I’d kept him talking, asking about what he was going to get up to, who he was meeting with and what sort of things he would see in Italy. He’d promised to take me a few photos while he was there.