We drove out to a spot that we’d been coming to for decades. A big country park with a few acres of forest, a big river running through it and, beyond it, accessed via stepping stones, a swathe of open land that was perfect for picnics and ball games. And with the various travails of yesterday apparently forgotten, both boys seemed in good – and high – spirits.
Perhaps slightly too high spirits, as it turned out.
I’ve never been particularly sure-footed in such situations, so though the water couldn’t have been more than two or three feet deep at that point, getting me across was something of a military manoeuvre. Rather like in the story, Mike had to plan it carefully, taking all the stuff that I’d been carrying across the river first, then, his hands now free, coming back over to collect me.
‘You’re not going to have him give you a piggy back, are you?’ said Tyler, laughing. ‘Because if you are, give me a mo so I can pull out my phone and film it.’
I gave him a pretend cuff around the ear for that – in fact, the idea had crossed my mind – but in the end I was able to cross to the other side without incident, all by myself, using Mike’s hand to give me precious confidence.
And I was just congratulating myself on my achievement when I heard a splash. Groaning inwardly, I turned, expecting to see Connor, messing about. But it was Ty I saw, knee deep in the glittering water by the bank, his expression thunderous but his phone thankfully still in his hand.
‘I was trying to effing help you!’ he roared at Connor. ‘What the hell did you do that for?’
‘I di’n’t do nothing!’ Connor responded, hopping nimbly up onto the bank and rushing across to help Tyler out. ‘I just tried to grab his hand, Casey, honest!’ he said, turning to both of us. ‘An’ then I slipped! Here, let me help you, Tyler. Gimme your phone before you drop it!’
Tyler scowled at him. ‘Yeah, right – and yanked me right into the water! Cheers for that, mate,’ he said. ‘Great job!’
Mike hurried across and held a hand out, pulling Tyler to the bank easily, while our furious teenager batted Connor’s outstretched hand away.
‘Oh, God, mate,’ Connor said. ‘I’m so sorry. I really am. Have we got any spare clothes, Casey? Tyler, d’you want to wear my trackies? They’ll be a bit short on you, but –’
‘No, I do not want to wear your trackies!’ Tyler said, accepting a towel from me while Mike held his phone. ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, looking at me. ‘I’ll put my board shorts on instead.’
‘Good idea,’ I agreed, anxious to defuse the situation and hugely glad I’d packed some swimming shorts. ‘They’ll dry in the sun easy enough, won’t they?’
But Tyler wasn’t to be mollified. Having divested himself of the wet trousers and sodden trainers, he stomped off in shorts and flip-flops to the picnic area.
‘Thank heavens for Mary Poppins, eh?’ Mike joked, obviously also trying to make light of it as we followed Tyler up the path to where the picnic benches were. ‘We may all scoff, but where would we all be without her? Up blankety-blank creek without a paddle, I reckon, Connor, don’t you?’
But Connor, whose hand I was holding, was on his own track. ‘He’s going to really hate me now, isn’t he?’ he whispered, tugging on it lightly.
‘Oh, he’ll come round,’ I reassured him. ‘After all, accidents happen, don’t they? And you’d be amazed what a difference a jumbo sausage roll makes. And an apology from you, okay? Even if it was an accident. A proper apology makes all the difference in the world.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll tell him I’m sorry. I am sorry, Casey. I was just thinking this morning how he seemed to be getting okay with me now.’ He sighed. ‘And now I go and do that. D’you think his trainers are gonna be okay?’
‘They’ll be just fine,’ I promised him. ‘And they’re only his old knocking-around ones, don’t worry. Quick spin in the tumble dryer and, spit-spot, they’ll be good as new.’
‘Like in Mary Poppins?’
‘Just like in Mary Poppins,’ I reassured him.