Page 49 of Summer Showers at Elder Fell Farm

‘Are they your boys?’ He gestured at the campervan.

‘One of them is. Harry is my son. Oliver is his friend.’

‘Do they want to play with me?’ he demanded.

‘I don’t know. Why don’t you ask them?’

The boy shrugged.

‘That’s mine,’ he said, pointing at the enormous red tent, spreading out across half the campsite.

‘It’s a big tent,’ Amy said. Even from the other end of the field, she could hear music playing and raucous laughter.

‘Yeah, well, there’s me and mum, and my uncle and Karly. I got bored. I want to play with them.’ He pointed at the boys, who were visible through the window of the campervan.

Amy wished Matt would come back. She didn’t want to invite a totally unknown boy into his campervan. Perhaps if she asked the boys to come out here and meet the new lad that might make more sense?

‘Oliver? Harry? Will you come out here please?’ she called. There was whispered conversation and lots of gesticulating in the campervan, and a few unfriendly glances towards the young lad.

‘Don’t want to. You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my mum,’ Oliver shouted rudely. ‘This is my campervan and I’m in charge ‘til Dad gets back.’

She had to look twice to make sure it was Oliver who had spoken and not Harry.

‘This little boy has arrived on the campsite, and he’d like somebody to play with, I think. Perhaps you could let him have a go on Goat Gunge?’

‘Goat Gunge? That’s for kids. Haven’t you got Call of Duty?’ said the boy.

‘No,’ said Amy. ‘Aren’t you a bit young for Call of Duty?’

‘I’m seven,’ he said, scathingly.

‘Seven. Wow, that is grown up. What’s your name, sweetheart?’ she said to the lad.

‘Ty.’

‘That’s a nice name.’

‘Short for Tyler. T Y L E R.’ He spelled out his name out loud like a much younger child, using the phonetic names for the letters.

‘Why don’t you come and say hi to Ty?’ she said to the boys with a grin at her own rhyme. ‘Then you can all play together?’

‘Don’t want to,’ said Oliver. ‘And you can’t make me.’

‘Oliver, that’s rude. At least come and say hello!’

‘No,’ he said with casual arrogance. Gone was the usual whingeing whine of grief of the poor sad, motherless boy. He sounded just like Harry.

‘Me neither. I’m playing with Oliver,’ Harry insisted, in a stubborn tone she recognised only too well.

‘Come on now boys,’ she persisted.

‘No WAY!’ Harry yelled.

‘You can SHUT UP right now!’ added Oliver, slamming shut the campervan door. ‘You’re not the boss of me!’

What had got into Oliver? He was usually such a polite little boy.

Tyler raised his eyes skywards ‘Oh. My. God. Kids!’ he said. ‘Don’t think I’ll bother. See ya.’