Beach Combing Read Online Free Page B

when you’re five that you can’t do when you’re older.’
    Alfie stuck his bottom lip out stubbornly. ‘Like what, La-wa?’ he demanded. ‘What can I do that you can’t do?’
    Lara rolled her eyes. She should have known better than to continue with this line of conversation. Alfie was at the age where he questioned absolutely everything. His response to the most anodyne remarks was ‘why?’ Or ‘how?’ Or, in this case, ‘like what?’
    They were strolling down Fishslice Alley, one of St Grace’s prettiest streets, on their way to buy ice creams at Antonio’s Café. Antonio’s was an institution in St Grace, an old-fashioned ice cream parlour with a pink and white awning and a sign with swirly writing. The café sold every flavour of ice cream under the sun – from raspberry ripple to lemon meringue pie. Lara and Alfie had got in the habit of going there two or three times a week, partly for the delicious ice cream and partly because the genial Antonio welcomed them like long-lost friends.
    ‘Like what, La-wa?’ persisted Alfie.
    The little boy was like a dog with a bone, thought Lara. Once he got hold of something he just wouldn’t let it go.
    ‘Well, you can roll all the way down a hill without feeling silly. And you can spend all day building a castle out of Lego if you want to. And you can buy a ticket for half-price on the bus…’
    Alfie was listening intently by now. When he heard Lara’s third suggestion he grinned with excitement.
    ‘I’ve never been for a ride on a bus, La-wa. There are lots near our house but Mummy always gets us a taxi. The buses are big red ones with staircases and people sitting on the top.’
    ‘They’re called double-deckers,’ said Lara, taken aback by Alfie’s revelation that he’d never been on a bus.
    ‘Can we find a double-decker at the seaside? Can we go for a ride on one?’
    Alfie’s questions tumbled out one after another in rapid succession and Lara smiled at his enthusiasm.
    They’d reached Antonio’s by now and Alfie’s brain quickly turned to something even more important than buses. The flavour of ice cream he was going to choose.
    ‘Ciao Signor Alfie,’ beamed Antonio, his smile lighting up his bright blue eyes. ‘And ciao Signora Lara.’
    Alfie raced to the ice cream counter and gazed in wonder at the rows of ice cream tubs. He insisted on counting each tub, one by one.
    ‘… twenty-three, twenty-four,’ he shrieked. ‘La-wa, there are twenty-four sorts of ice cream. You are an ice cream magician, Antonio.’
    ‘Si, Signor Alfie,’ chuckled Antonio. ‘I do magic tricks with ice cream. You are right. Now, which are you going to choose today?’
    Alfie always took an age to make his mind up but Antonio didn’t hurry him, even though a queue had begun to build up behind them. Finally, after Antonio had handed Lara a tub of pistachio ice cream (she could never resist the glorious colour) and a matching spoon, Alfie asked for a banana split cornet – with his favourite sprinkles on top.
    As they sauntered out of the café and into the sunshine Lara beamed with happiness. This was perfect, she thought. A beautiful seaside town, a sweet little boy who made her laugh and a delicious ice cream. What more could she ask?
    Actually, there was something. Flinging her empty ice cream tub into a litterbin, she grabbed Alfie’s hand.
    ‘I’ve got a great idea,’ she said. ‘What would you say to a ride on the bus? I can check with your dad now and if he says “yes” we’ll get the bus to St Ives.’
    Alfie’s face was a picture. His mouth was already covered in banana split ice cream and as he jumped in the air with excitement he smeared his nose with yet more ice cream.
    ‘Yay,’ he yelled.
    Lara had pulled her phone out of her pocket and was quickly texting Jago. ‘Is it OK with you if I take Alfie on a bus to St Ives? We’ll be back by six.’
    Unlike her friends Lara was a stickler for punctuating her texts properly. Maybe it