The Last Summer of Being Single. Nina Harrington
His head dropped again. ‘I was just asking!’
Dan glanced up at Seb and gave him a toothy smile, which would be breaking hearts in the very near future. It was a signal between boys.
‘Matter of fact I did have to screech my tyres. Grit was flying everywhere. It was like being in one of those rally cars. Even had to skid a bit along the grass.’ ‘Cool!’
‘Oh, I give up. Boys!’ Ella turned back to her peas while Milou chose that moment to issue a loud yawn and settled down to sleep after his exciting adventure.
Dan sidled up closer to Sebastien and looked once at Ella, who gave him one single nod before asking in a low whisper, ‘Is that your car outside? It’s the biggest I’ve ever seen!
Seb bent down from the waist so that he was at the same level as Dan. Interesting. Apparently he had just been given security clearance from Ella.
‘Yes, it is my car, but your mother is right, mate.’ Seb shook his head. ‘I would have felt just awful if I had hurt your dog. I only just managed to turn away in time. Were you supposed to be making sure he didn’t make it to the road?’
There was a nod but, from the way the boy’s bottom lip was quivering, Seb took the initiative and moved to a different question. He was not used to children at the best of times and he certainly didn’t have the training to handle tears.
‘Tell me about the other dog. The younger one. Where does he live?’
The little boy glanced back towards Ella and Milou, twisted his mouth from side to side, made a decision, and replied in a big gush, ‘Milou is really old now, but Wolfie is a puppy and lives next door at the farm and comes to see us sometimes. Want to see where Wolfie gets through the fence?’
Dan’s eyes brightened and he clutched at Seb’s sleeve. ‘Maybe you can help fix the fence? That way Milou won’t squeeze out in the gap? Can you? Can you fix it? Please?’
‘Dan! Please don’t pester Mr Castellano,’ Ella whispered in a kind voice, but Dan had taken firm hold of Seb’s sleeve and clearly needed a reply.
Seeing as a working knowledge of hand tools and do-it-yourself carpentry were not skills that Seb considered priorities in software and communication systems design, he decided that mending fence panels was not a job he was qualified to undertake. Besides, Mr Ella Martinez would probably be back from his day job or whatever other task took him away from home on a Thursday afternoon, and could no doubt do a far better job.
So he replied with the first thing that came into his head.
‘Why not wait for your dad to come home and then you can fix the fence together? I’m sure he’ll do a far better job than I can.’
There was a sudden intake of breath from the tiny brunette sitting at the table, and as Seb glanced up her hands had stilled over the peas and her lips were pressed tight together as she stared intensely into the basket.
This was not a good sign.
Then Dan was shaking his head at him and tugging at his sleeve more urgently, demanding his attention.
‘My daddy is in heaven! And Milou is very naughty! Aunty Nicole is having a party. And there are going to be lots of cars and vans and things and that means…big trouble.’.
Dan sighed twice between these two final words and released Seb to lift both hands in the air.
Seb paused for a second in appreciation of the simple, devastatingly logical thinking of a small boy. Whose daddy was in heaven. And whose fence was broken, and probably had been broken for quite some time.
Perhaps he could apply the same simple childlike logic to the simple request for help? This was Nicole’s house. He was Nicole’s former stepson. In a strange way that sort of made him responsible in Nicole’s absence. Not that he wanted to be responsible but…?
Decision made. Seb swung his legs down from the recliner and nodded. ‘I can see that could be a problem. How about you show me how Milou made his escape? Then maybe between the two of us we can come up with a plan to keep him safe from now on. What do you say?’
The little boy glanced back towards Ella and Milou, twisted his mouth from side to side, made a decision, and said, ‘My name is Daniel. What’s yours?’
‘Well, back in Australia my friends call me Seb. How about that?’
‘Okay,’ Dan replied with a shrug as he meshed his little fingers into Seb’s open hand and tried to drag him off towards the barn.
Seb stood in silence and glanced down at Dan’s small fingers clasped tightly around his. He hadn’t been expecting that. Some of his team were married with children but the majority of the technical experts who worked with him in design were single men. He was not used to having children around him in his workplace or his daily life.
Especially children who insisted on holding his hand. He could not recall that ever happening before.
This was going to be a first. But he was up for new experiences. He could handle it.
‘Come on, Seb,’ Dan called out, and tugged at his hand. ‘Or Wolfie will break Milou out again.’
Ella watched as Seb paused for a second, dumbfounded, before closing his fingers around her son’s relatively tiny fist and walking slowly back out to the sunlit garden. Dan’s little dark head kept glancing up as he chatted nonstop about the fence and the gaps between the trees, and how his mum and Yvette had fixed them high on one side, but Wolfie had jumped on the fence when he came to see Milou and it all just went squish, and.
Seb nodded but did not reply. He had opened up a personal organiser one-handed and was probably looking for the telephone number of a local odd-jobs man at that very minute. This of course was what she should have done. If she had thought of it.
How could he get a word in? Dan had said more than enough for both of them.
Oh, Dan.
Ella hadn’t been expecting that outburst about his dad. Dan was wonderful with adults he knew, but he sometimes found it difficult to approach men. Especially strangers he had never met before.
She sat and watched the unlikely pair for a few seconds in silence. The tall business executive in the designer clothing, wearing shoes that cost more than her week’s wages, was giving his full attention to a little boy who was revelling in the simple fact that he had a man to talk to for once.
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