Rafe laughs. ‘Sounds more like a House of Horrors than a Fun Palace.’
Gracie looks down from where she’s poised at the top of the slide. ‘My snowmans want to come too.’
Rory picks them up and delivers them to her lap. ‘Jeez, anything else?’
Gracie stares down at him. ‘Mummy says “one two three go”.’
‘Christmas crackers.’ Rory’s muttering under his breath. ‘Is that all, your majesty?’
‘She does clapping too.’
‘What?’ Rory groans. ‘It’s a slide, not the frigging Cresta Run.’
‘Maybe just do it, Rory.’ From where I’m standing the slide looks pretty high for a three-year-old. I remember one time when Freya queued with me all the way to the top of this huge slide in the park. And when I got to the top it looked such a long way down, I lost my bottle. The entire queue behind me had to go back down the steps to let me climb off. It might have been the ultimate humiliation for meandFreya, but for once I didn’t care. I’d have happily suffered the embarrassment ten times over if it meant I didn’t have to whoosh down that polished stainless-steel channel. As Gracie pushes off, I shout, ‘One two three, go!’ By the time she whizzes round and flops into the ball pile,mostof us are clapping. As I glare at Rory, he joins in too.
Gracie flounders around, then struggles the length of the cage and clambers out of the hole in the netting. ‘Again.’
‘Great,’ I say, catching Poppy’s eye. ‘Why not?’
Half an hour later, Gracie’s still doing her circuits, cheered on by her own personal fan club. Even the single kids with their grandparents in tow don’t have quite as many supporters in their crowd as Gracie does.
‘So are you free tomorrow afternoon, Berry?’ Rory breaking the cycle of clapping and sliding takes me by surprise.
I exchange glances with Immie, who’s spooning food into Teddie from a jar, and give Rory a superior ‘told you so’ smirk. ‘See, we knew once you came to a play zone you wouldn’t be able to stay away.’ Even if Gracie hasn’t smiled yet, I’m sure I’ve caught the occasional twitching at the corner of Rory’s mouth. Who knows, his face might even crack into a beam before we trundle back out past Santa and his bobbing reindeer. ‘Coming again might be fun. Maybe Gracie’ll try the bouncy castle tomorrow, for a variation.’ An hour by the ball cage, surrounded by whooping kids might be noisy. But even though it’s horribly Christmassy, it’s relaxing enough for me to be tempted to come again.
Rory looks at me as if I’m totally crazy. ‘Jeez, I don’t mean we’re coming here. If I hearFrosty The Snowmanone more time my head might implode. But if the next wedding’s on Friday, we need to stake out the Manor ASAP.’
For a few happy moments back there the spectre of Friday’s wedding had slipped my mind. I’m just about to curse Rory for bringing me hurtling back to reality when Gracie comes towards us.
She’s waggling her snowman at me. ‘Snowman’s gone down.’ From the dark shadows under her eyes, I’m guessing she’ll sleep tonight.
I beam at her, willing her to smile back. ‘Yes, Gracie, Snowman’s gone down the slide a hundred times at least.’
But rather than smiling, her mouth corners droop. ‘Snowman’s gone. Snowman’s gone …’ Her voice gets more urgent, then rises to a shriek as she shakes him at me. ‘Snowman’s gone!…’
Rory winces at her howl. ‘Christmas, weren’t there two of them?’ He frowns down at her. ‘Where’s yourothersnowman, Gracie?’
As a large tear rolls down Gracie’s cheek, she points at the cage. ‘B-b-balls …’
Rory rolls his eyes. ‘For once I couldn’t have put it better myself.’
‘Oh my. Is Snowman Two in the ball pit?’ Poppy’s shaking her head. ‘We can’t leave him there, he’s like part of the family.’ Even if she sounds a tad sentimental, we all know what she means.
Rafe’s scrunching up his face. ‘Can’t we just buy another?’
Poppy’s eyes widen in shock. ‘Please tell me youdidn’tsay that.’
Immie’s got her hands on her hips. ‘Too right. There’s only one thing for it. I’m going in.’ A minute later, she’s horizontal and wriggling through the gap in the netting, swimming her way into the balls. ‘Come on, Hols, we’ll do a systematic sweep of the cage.’
There are some people you can ignore, but Immie isn’t one of them. Next thing I know, I’m diving head-first after her.
‘How the heck do the kids do it?’ Wading through a sea of plastic balls that comes well up my thighs is harder than you’d imagine.
Immie’s sifting through the spheres as if she’s doing back skulling, while I’m already on my knees, raking through, like some kind of frenzied mole.
Rory’s laughing. ‘Shout if you need a poop scoop, Immie.’
Beyond the netting, Poppy turns on Rory. ‘Tell me I didn’t hearthat, either.’
