#2906 – Foxy
Haywards Heath, January 2020.
She had only turned away for a few seconds, a minute at most. When she turned back, he had gone. Run off after something – a squirrel or a pigeon. She’d searched for what seemed like ages, though, and eventually found him on the swings. There was nobody else around, just him and she half walked, half ran over to him and scooped him up, hugging him tightly as if she was never going to let him go.
“I wondered where you had gone! Don’t run off like that!!”
“Tommy and I went to the playground. He wanted to go on the swings”
“Tom… Argh!” That blessed imaginary friend again! Every time ‘Tommy’ was to blame, never Max. She could have screamed and shouted then, but she didn’t want to scare him. “You don’t have to do everything Tommy wants you to, you know,” she said, sighing.
“But he’s lonely!”
“Right, let’s get going.” She knew she was never going to win against the four-year-old’s logic. “Come on.” They turned and made their way out of the park, back to the High Street, back home.
Behind them, the swings were still moving, swaying in seemingly perfect time.