‘Up we go’ said her father, lifting her up to reach the button. She tore off the ticket and skipped happily back to their car. He held open the door as she placed the label on the window. Then she ran off ahead down the pathway to the sand. This was the beach where her dad taught her to swim, she could remember how pleased she was she swam her first few feet in the water.
‘Well done, let’s go buy ice creams to celebrate!’
‘Yeah’ she replied, ‘I want one with a chocolate stick with strawberry sauce on top!’
They ran off laughing, towards the light blue van.
Now, she looked at the long queue for ice creams. It was full of parents with children anticipating their treats. They all looked happy in the heat, even the ice cream man had the same cheerful expression as the one who was there when she a little girl. He reached down to pass a little boy his ice cream.
‘Now, what do you say to the nice man?’ asked his mother.
He mumbled a quick ‘Thank you’ and ran off with his ice cream. The ice cream man just chuckled and he exchanged smiles with the woman.
Lying back, she stared up at the blue sky. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen anywhere, except at the horizon of the sea. She wondered about her dad. He refused to reply to her letters of unanswered questions of why he left her and her mother, she understood his absent replies of course. She had no contact details, he never received anything. He hadn’t the faintest idea how she felt. Yet she still wrote, there were pages and pages of unreciprocated wonder in a box at the back of her cupboard.
She had no photos, except the one she had framed of him on one of their trips to the beach years ago. She often found herself passing men in the street and thinking ‘Is that him?’ She doubted he looked the same as he did in the photo. He looked so young in his picture, his hair would most likely have changed, maybe even starting to grey. She was hopelessly wishing that he would suddenly appear back in her life, and things would be just like they used to be.
She played with the sand beside her with her fingers. It was ideal for building sand castles, just as they used to.
Together, Anna and her dad would create 5 towers and turrets. The windows and doors had been drawn on carefully with a stick. Complete with a moat and an old piece of flat drift wood for a draw bridge. While he guarded their castle, she collected shells and other appealing items for its decoration. Once finished it looked magnificent to her, just like one a real princess could live in. It was outstanding compared to those in the pictures in the window display where she worked. In the pictures of sand castles she had put on show, they were merely piles of sand with flags in comparison to her and her dad’s fine expertise. The annual sandcastle competition was this week end, she had won this in the year 1992 when she was 6 years old. She still had the trophy and a photo of herself beside their castle holding their well-deserved prize in the air. It had a gold castle with a little flag on top, and a spade beside it on a silver, square base.
Anna still had her brilliant building skill as her castle looked just as good as how her and her father’s used to. It had all the details it should have, the turrets and even the shells. Then again, there was one object missing. Before every trip to the beach they went into the cabinet in their living room and picked up a small blue flag. They never forgot it and it was always the final piece to be added to their castle. Although she did not have it anymore, she imagined her castle with the same blue flag on top. She examined her castle. She reassured herself that her father would have been proud, with or without a flag. She knew that her father being there would make this moment complete.
Sitting on the beach alone, Anna admired her replica. Then a hand came into view gently holding a small flag. The flag was placed, in slow-motion, on the tallest tower and she found herself filling with hope and excitement. She did not dare look up, what was she to say? She had not seen nor heard from her father for over 13 years, how was she to react to this sudden appearance? Has he finally admitted wrong for leaving her and her mother? What happened to the other woman? She was never sure about the other woman. She knew her mother disliked talking about the matter and she would never force her mother to tell her anything. Perhaps it was best she never knew?
She stayed completely still for a few moments before finally looking up, her heart was beating and she could only force herself to say one word.
‘Dad?’
She saw familiar eyes and broke into tears. She had never cried over him before, she always remained strong for her mum.
‘What? Anna what’s wrong? Why are you crying?’ was the reply.
There was a long pause and the two seemed to be frozen. She came back to reality.
‘He’s never coming back,’ she sobbed.
The familiar eyes were not her father’s. They were Liam’s. Liam was one of her friends, who she had known since primary school. She wiped he eyes; she could tell he was uncomfortable with situation. He did not know what to say. Anna broke the difficult silence. She reminded herself that her father was not coming back. If he wanted to he could, he knew where she was, it was his decision to walk out and it would be his to walk back in again.
‘Sorry, I’m ok. Forget it.’
‘You sure?’ he asked nervously.
Anna attempted to laugh, however he saw she was forcing herself to.
‘Come on. We’ll get an ice cream,’ he said.
Anna smiled.
‘I want one with a flake and strawberry sauce’
She knew he wasn’t coming home, and perhaps that was best. She had to move on, she might see her dad again one day but she wasn’t ready yet. She had to live her life without the hope of seeing her father where ever she went.
She packed up her towel in her bag. The flag Liam had placed had fallen over slightly. She fixed it, smiled and ran after Liam who had already begun to walk away.
