Page 118 of Sunrise By the Sea

Marisa thought the woman who lived here would be terrifying, but she wasn’t; she was nice.

‘It’s amazing,’ said Marisa honestly. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘Welcome to Reuben’s world,’ said Kerensa, rolling her eyes as if you ever got used to it.

Polly turned round at a sound on the water.

‘You are kidding,’ she said.

‘Oh,’ said Kerensa. ‘He didn’t tell me about this either.’

‘Didn’t tell you about what?’ came a loud American-accented voice. ‘Hey. You know they didn’t bring the tigers! How are you meant to have a birthday party without tigers?’

‘Um, on that?’ said Polly, stunned. She went over to Reuben and kissed him. ‘Happy eighth dad half-birthday.’

Round the point was sailing, astoundingly, a proper schooner, flying a Jolly Roger.

‘You’re having a party with a realpirate ship?’

‘Yuh,’ said Reuben, as if this was both obvious and reasonable.

The boat tacked around, to be hidden until it was properly needed.

‘Are you sure this party is for Lowin?’ said Polly, teasing him.

‘No,’ said Reuben, who had no ear for sarcasm whatsoever. ‘It’s for me. Lowin would rather be playing on his Xbox.’

‘Is that where he is?’ said Kerensa. ‘I should get him into his knickerbockers.’

‘You’re not,’ said Polly. ‘Kerensa!’

‘What?’ said Kerensa. ‘I am still waiting for my baby girl and I haven’t got her yet, and until then I shall dress up my baby boy how I please.’

‘Quite right,’ said Reuben, putting his arm round her. ‘Look at all this bay.’

‘It’s fabulous,’ said Kerensa, kissing him.

Polly smiled. ‘Okay, come on, back to the galley, worker ant,’ she said to Marisa, who still hadn’t quite recovered from the pirates.

‘This is . . .’

‘It’s just his way.’

‘Whydon’tyou sell him the bakery?’

‘Because he’d only be doing it as a favour,’ said Polly. ‘And we’re friends. And I want to keep it that way.’

At two p.m. people started to arrive; not in dribs and drabs, like at a normal party, but all at once, in a massive rush, as if everyone had been waiting in the car park on the other side of the dunes until they got the signal to enter, which was in fact exactly what had happened.

Kerensa’s mother, who worshipped Lowin quite as much as the rest of his relatives and not entirely to the benefit of Lowin, ushered the boy down. He was indeed in velvet pantaloons which made him look, like his doting father, rather more padded in the bottom area than you’d expect from a young boy, and a billowing white shirt.

‘He looks like a little prince!’ said Kerensa, clasping her hands to her mouth.

‘This is a STUPID outfit,’ said Lowin. ‘I want an Arsenal kit.’

‘Darling,’ said Kerensa. Lowin went up to Polly who gave him a kiss and a cuddle.

‘Hello, bruiser. Happy half-birthday.’

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