“Ah, thanks mate.” “Thanks, mate.” “Thanks mate.” A chorus of mates, as if he was part of the group rather than just the server. He swallowed his irritation. What would he have preferred them to do? An awkward respectful silence, hands in laps and no eye-contact? Unhelpful helping hands grabbing bottles off the tray and upsetting the balance? Thank you, my man? They were just a bunch of cheerful awkward lads in their twenties, trying to behave decently. They were still discussing the surf and the waves and the water and the wipe-out. The person they’d met in the water was female. An awful thought squeezed at his heart – would Alicia… ? Had she… ? Would they… ?

He hovered for a moment, making slightly more than he needed to of adjusting chairs on the adjoining table. “… too old, mate.” “I wasn’t interested!” “Yeah, you were.” “You lot are sick. Sick… ” He moved away before they caught him listening. His hands trembled slightly. He took out his phone.

Hi sweetheart. This is your dad, turning weird and stalkerish. What you up to this afternoon? Any danger I might see you at some point? Xxxxx

He filled the interval until his phone pinged by wiping down the already immaculate pumps. The towels were beginning to fade. He had a spare box somewhere…

Sup D-man? I is hanging wid Katie. Xxxxxxxxxxx PS that means ‘Hello father, I am currently at Katie’s residence’.

Ah, but was she? Katie. A long-term fixture, so… he scrolled through his phone. Andy - Katie’s dad.

Hey there mate this is Alicia’s dad. Apparently she’s invited herself round to yours, just checking that’s okay with you. Cheers, Donald.

The laughter of the surfers was senseless and irritating. How could they sound so much like braying donkeys? Chimpanzees didn’t bother with laughter. They just gouged each other’s eyes out and, if they were feeling particularly upset, pulled each other’s heads off. His phone pinged. How did parents cope before they could pursue their children round the world like this?

Hey mate, yep she’s here and it’s fine. No trouble all morning. On the computer for a while. Now in Katie’s room doing girl shit. Cheers, Andy (Katie’s dad).

All morning. The only words that mattered. It wasn’t Alicia the surfers were letching over. His heart was suddenly light. Let them drool over somebody else’s teenage daughter, let them ogle her breasts and covet her legs and dream of the cleft between her thighs. Just as long as it wasn’t Alicia. As he checked the stock in the fridges, he began to whistle.

A few more customers drifted in, their background conversation making the asinine sound of the surfers paradoxically quieter. Mike came in at two so Donald could go to the Cash and Carry. He didn’t actually need anything but he had given Mike the shift anyway. That was how it worked in this small community; the income from the town’s single unpredictable cash-crop recycled round the town for as long as possible, diminishing and diminishing with every pass, until Easter came and the first trickle of new money began to arrive. Mike had the look on his face that told Donald he had a favour to ask. Please God it wouldn’t be for extra work. He’d done okay this year, but not so okay he could carry Mike and his family through the cold.