Free Boy Trouble by Sarah Webb Page B

here,” she says. “I’m sorry, Amy. They’re acting like children. I don’t know what to say.”
    “Mum’s upset.” I feel like I have to defend her. After all, it’s Dad who’s in the wrong.
    Mum and Dad are standing in the hall as I follow Clover down the stairs.
    “Sorry, Amy,” Dad mumbles. He looks very sheepish. “I should have told you and Sylvie about the wedding weeks ago. I was too scared to be honest. Shelly said—”
    “Can’t you forget about Little Miss Perky for just one minute?” Mum says. Then she cackles like a Macbeth witch. “Clearly not. After all, she’s having your baby now, isn’t she?”
    “Mum.” I’m appalled. I know she’s upset but that’s not fair. She has two children with Dave after all. And they’re not even married.
    “Sorry, Amy.” Mum puts her hands to her face. “It’s just a lot to take in.”
    The front door swings open and Dave peers inside. “Oh, hi, everyone.” Alex is asleep in the buggy on the path behind him. “Why the long faces?” he asks.
    “Art and Shelly are married and they’re having a baby,” Mum says.
    Dave looks at Dad and smiles softly. “Congratulations, mate. I’m happy for you. When’s it due?”
    Things are so simple for Dave. Black and white. I wonder about him sometimes.
    “September,” Dad says.
    Mum makes a funny little noise in the back of her throat and her face crumples.
    Dave looks at Mum. “Life moves on, Sylvie,” he says gently.
    Mum’s eyes well up and she turns on her heels and runs into the kitchen.
    “Go easy on her, Art,” Dave tells Dad. “She’s a bit fragile at the moment. Evie’s being difficult.”
    Dad nods and holds out his hand. “Thanks,” he says.
    Dave shakes it a little stiff ly. “Best go now,” Dave tells him firmly.
    Dad murmurs, “Yeah,” and walks out of the house.
    Clover blows out her breath. “Jeepers, that was a bit intense. Where’s Evie?”
    “Upstairs having a nap,” Dave says.
    Clover smiles. “She’s got my genes. She’ll sleep through anything.”
    “Snores too,” I add. “Just like you.”
    Clover makes a miffed horsey “humph” noise. “I do not snore, Beanie.” She thumps me on the shoulder.

Chapter 13
    Later that afternoon I go for a walk on Killiney Beach. Clover’s snoozing on the sofa in her office and Gramps is busy in the garden. Much as I’d love to help him deadhead the roses, I decide I need some time to think. I can’t get Mum out of my head, her face mushed up with sadness. Does she still love Dad, is that it? But what about Dave?
    I walk over the old iron pedestrian bridge beside the train station, sand shuffling under my runners. As soon as I see the water, I start to feel a little better. I’m wearing the Gucci sunglasses with the rose-coloured lenses that Clover gave me and they’re turning everything pink. The sea is magenta, the sky is lilac, the sand is the colour of candyfloss. I turn left and start walking towards Bray, away from the busy part of the beach, the part nearest the car parks. People are so lazy, I think as I kick some smooth sea-washed pebbles with my toe and make my way towards the water’s edge.
    I scowl at an old crumbling lump of dog poo and jump over it. Then I push my hands down into the pockets of my jeans and walk faster, the damp, compact sand squeaking a little under my feet.
    A black and white collie dashes out of the surf in front of me and shakes itself, showering my jeans with salt water. I yelp and step back but it’s too late, I’m soaked.
    I look crossly at the boy who’s pulling his dog away by the collar.
    “Bad dog, Billy,” he says. Yikes, it’s Seth Stone, from art class. He hasn’t recognized me, thank goodness.
    But then he looks up at me and says, “Sorry.” And then, “Amy, hi. How weird.”
    You’re the weirdo, I think, but instead I say, “Hi. Nice dog.” Great, Amy. What an intelligent thing to say.
    “Thanks. This delinquent is Billy.” Seth squats down and gives the