Keir’s responding look is purefuck youwith a side of snark.
‘Talkin’ about my balls. And in front of the lady.’ Keirtsks,shaking his head disapprovingly.
‘Don’t worry, I’m used to it by now,’ I tell him. Used to his teasing, at least.
There is a fork in the path ahead, and we take the route leading in the direction of the bleachers, the other fork leading to a pair of squat, flat roofed buildings. I notice a couple of men disappearing through the door of the building closest with sports bags thrown over their shoulders. That makes them changing rooms, I suppose.
‘Watch this one,’ Keir says suddenly. His tone is light, but there’s something of a warning in his expression. ‘He’ll corrupt you.’ He shifts the large sports bag in his left hand, positioning it higher over his shoulder, and I think he’s going to speak again. Instead, he casts his gaze in the direction of the playing field. It’s strange, but I can’t help but hear the truth in the words he doesn’t actually say.
‘Who’s corrupting who, here? The feminine voice from behind bubbles with laughter, and as I turn, Will’s arm slides from my shoulder. ‘And why are you cluttering up the path up with your manly selves?’
‘Juno, my sweetness!’
My smile slips, until I realise Will’s effusive greeting isn’t for the dark-haired beauty behind us, but for the tiny bundle he takes from her.
‘Thank you, Will.’ Smiling, the woman shakes out her arms. ‘She’s getting to be so heavy.’
‘She must get that from her da,’ says Keir, leaning in with a quick hello kiss as Will comically covers the baby’s ears.
‘Don’t say such things. She’ll get a complex. Pay no attention to the mean man, darling,’ Will coos. ‘You’re nothing like your father. He’s a great oaf, not a great beauty.’
The sight is a little disconcerting, I’ll admit. I mean, I like babies. At least, as far as I can tell, but who would’ve thought Will would be interested in any female under the age of at least eighteen.
‘Ella, how are you?’ With his free arm, Will pulls the woman in for a quick kiss and a one-armed hug. Ella happens to be a babe, too. Classically gorgeous with Mediterranean looks and dressed in tight jeans and a flowing t-shirt, she somehow manages both demure and sexy. Meanwhile, I’m dressed in yellow sundress and a bolero cardigan. Will hadn’t mentioned the possibility of mud.
‘Get your mitts off my wife,’ growls a deeper voice. Dark and—wow—large, the man walking towards us holds the hand of a little boy in his meaty fist.
‘Mac.’ Ignoring the unfriendly tone, Will nods in the man’s direction, immediately turning his attention back to the baby, which he then holds in the air with both hands. The little one’s arms and legs start to thrash with excitement, her round, pink face revealing a two-toothed smile. ‘I’m glad to see the women in this family still appreciate me, at least.’
Mac glowers darkly in Wills direction as a little boy breaks free from his hand, throwing his arms around Will’s knees.
‘I still ’preciates you, Uncle Will.’
‘And that’s why I pay you pocket money, my little man.’ Tucking the baby between his arm and torso, Will ruffles the little boy’s hair. ‘Comment ça va?’ He speaks French? Oh, Lord, that’s such a turn-off... said no woman ever.
‘I’m very well, Uncle Will. Now gooder still!’ His eyes sparkle as Will slides a five-pound note out of his pocket and into the little boy’s hand.
‘You spoil the lad,’ grouses Mac before he shouts, ‘and don’t buy too many sweeties wi’ that!’ as the boys runs off towards the field.
‘Mac, this is Sadie, Will’s friend,’ Keir says.
‘My commiserations to you,’ he grunts, helping Ella fasten a baby carrier.
‘Pay him no attention, Sadie,’ Ella says kindly. ‘Mac has his game face on.’
‘It’s a pity Mac doesn’t have any other face to put on.’ Something tells me Mac would like to wipe the grin of Will’s face. A theory confirmed as he growls again, taking the baby from Will’s arms. Yet his hard expression melts as he takes the little one into his arms.
‘That’s your exposure therapy for the day. Remember, Juno; strange danger,’ he says, tucking chubby denim-covered legs into the carrier.
‘We aren’t strangers, are we, wee Juno?’ Will leans over to feed his index finger into her pudgy fist, but Mac smacks it away, mumbling something about him being too close to the goods.
‘You’re being ridiculous.’ Ella sighs protractedly, her ample chest rising and falling along with the breath.
‘Am not,’ his voice rumbles back, stepping back but not exactly moving away.
‘And it’s stranger danger, not strange,’ she says, placing her hand on his cheek.
‘It’s not just strangers who can be dangerous. She needs to learn to differentiate and understand.’
