Elsa May Green. Chapters four, five, and six.

Chapter Four.

September 21st, 2007

My alcohol-induced bravado fell away in my dreams and this morning, replaced by feelings of self-pity. My head banged like a hundred elephants stampeding on my brain and my mouth drier than a desert. The sheer consumption of booze muddled yesterday’s events, sitting somewhere between the deepest recesses of my mind and the empty bottle that I had tossed across the front room the night before.

I fell from the sofa that had entombed my poison-filled carcass and headed to the bathroom in search of relief from my aching and parched existence. The cold water cascaded down my face, washing away at my tear-stained skin and bringing back to the fore the forgotten events of the day before. A sense of nausea once again rolled over my body as the embarrassing scene at the riverbank yesterday hit me like a rock.

I stood and stared into the mirror at the loser staring back at me and sighed before dragging my weary bones to the kitchen to perform the caffeinated ritual that had been my saving grace every morning after I had encountered. The bright glare that shot through the gaps in the window wounded my crimson eyes as I pulled them together, entombing myself in darkness. I sat there blowing the top of the coffee cup and pondering the previous day.

Recollections crept into my head of Elsa and myself when we were growing up, the fun we had together, her smile, her laughter, her beautiful baby face, holding hands, and not last, that kiss, the sublime meeting at Badger’s rest. The words she used yesterday left me confused about whether she wanted Ruben or did not. I could not blame her if she did. He was entertaining, good looking, and he was not a paranoid idiot who carried around his woes on a cross like a mad Vicar.

I picked up my mobile phone to face an array of unopened messages from Elsa. I did not want to look pushing it across the kitchen table, but it was no use. My curiosity got the better of me as I opened the message.

8:03 pm ‘Thomas, where are you? Xxxx.’

8:04 pm ‘We are in the King’s Head, please come over, it’s not the same without you here! Xxxx.’

‘She had missed me last night, lots of kisses meant only one thing, she liked me once again and forgave my indiscretions’ I thought.

8:10 pm ‘Thomas please come over; I am worried about you xxx!’

8:12 pm (missed call)

8:17 pm (missed call)

8:19 pm (missed call)

8:45 pm ‘Thomas, we have knocked on your door but you are not answering, this is stupid, you always promised you would be there for me no matter what. Isn’t this one of those moments? Xx.’

9.00 pm ‘If you do not want to join us, message me to let us know! X.’

9:20 pm ‘Fine, you sulk, we will enjoy ourselves even in your absence!’

9:21pm ‘Arsehole!!!!!’

Elsa had replaced the kisses with anger, but this was good, she was cross because I was not there, this was exceptionally good in fact. Hitting reply, I typed.

7:43 am ‘Hi Elsa, sorry about last night, I was so tired and ended up crashing on the sofa with my friend Jack Daniels. Hope you guys had a fab time. What are the plans for today?xxxx,’ I replied with a wry smile.

7:46 am (no reply)

7:48 am (no reply)

7:51 am (no reply)

7:57 am (no reply)

Even though moments earlier I felt hope, I could not relinquish the thoughts that crashed through my mind. Elsa did not say she would not date Ruben. She had said it was none of my damned business.

8:01 am (no reply)

8:02 am, I slipped my mobile phone under the newspaper on the kitchen table. I needed to remove her from my anxieties, to extinguish thoughts of what she was doing and who with; I had a life, and a good one, I didn’t need to know what she was up to.

8:02 am and forty-two seconds I pulled the phone from under the newspaper on the table, still no message.

‘Maybe I should ring her and apologise,’ I thought, hovering my finger over her name and taking a deep breath. An endless ringtone met my ear, followed by her voicemail. I disconnected the call and placed my mobile phone under the newspaper on the table and headed to the shower to convert the vagabond that was now me to a fresh smelling homeless-looking man.

Casting my t-shirt and pants to the floor I clambered into the shower, I was weary and dejected but agreed it was time to man up.

Thoughts of her and my lack of trust toward her cut sharply through the mist and cloud that were forming around me as I washed my chest and arms. A small corner of my mind justified what I had said yesterday. I created a contract, however, another part of me knew I could not switch the pact on and off to suit my own needs.

Pressing my hands against the shower glass, I stared aimlessly as the water cascaded down my skin, washing away the odour of last night’s bout of drunken commiseration. My strong and sculpted body had become a fragile entity, crushed by my fears. It was time to forget; because I needed Elsa and the rest of them, life without them was unthinkable.

I watched as the spray from the shower cascaded down the glass creating a pattern, just then an eerie and yet familiar feeling clawed its way into my existence. I was overflowing with fear, anxious, and tired as I rubbed at the surface and peered through into the gap. I could make out a foreign shape crouching next to the sink, an unusually dark and worrying shadow. I mopped at my eyes and moved backward as I trembled violently. My heart skipped a beat as the shadowy figure seemed to adjust to the right. I grasped the door handle, pulling it tight. The pumping in my chest increased as I held fast and closed my eyelids to await the onslaught. Maybe this was it, the time I would meet my maker. The bleak darkness that sat in the corner teased me, choosing to remain static as if waiting for me to show myself before it attacked. Eventually, as the hot water ran cold, my moment of fear disappeared, and a sense of annoyance took its place. I needed to warm myself and I flung the door open.

‘Leave me alone, I cannot take anymore of this!’ I screamed as the mist cleared.

The beast I hid from for an eternity sat crouched in a cold shower had been nothing more than my t-shirt. I needed to get a grip. My paranoia was overtaking me, becoming scared of my shadow.

I brushed away the layer of steam on the bathroom mirror and pulled my hair back. I dried my chest and my toned abs before pressing the towel around my midriff and slipping into my shorts and t-shirt while drifting to yesterday’s argument with Elsa.

‘What are you doing Tom, get a grip you fool!’ I thought.

The familiar ping of my phone interrupted my moment of self-advice.

I pulled on my shoes, kicked the t-shirt that had sought to haunt me into the washing basket, and headed back into the kitchen, reaching for my phone nestled between the newspaper pages.

8:17 am ‘Oi you reprobate, we are meeting at Jefferson park at five past twelve, be there or be square,’ bleeped my phone, it was a text from Michael.

No messages from Elsa, but that did not phase me. She was probably still asleep, and I relished my chance to bring myself back into the fold, to forget about yesterday, and to enjoy the day.

Maybe she was right, I needed to grow up, to get my own life. If I could not express my love for her, I would try to uncover her thoughts on me. I also knew that it would only take a single person, be it, Michael or Gabriel, to react badly to any of us attempting to make a move on her. If just one friend believed the pact was still as concrete as it was when we were younger, our friendship would be in jeopardy.

The fact is, I did not understand how any of them felt anymore about the agreement we drew up as children. Elsa made herself clear yesterday, but she was not the voice for the group. What I did next would probably turn out to be a massive mistake, but I had my reasons, or so I thought.

8:19 am ‘Hi Camilla, how are you, it’s me, Tom, I know we fell out last week, but I just wondered if you would like to come to Jefferson park today?’

I read through my impending text, poising my index finger and hovering over the send button before deleting the message. I needed to stop playing with her emotions; It was time to behave myself, Camilla also deserved better. I had not been nice to her in the few days leading up to the split and using her as a pawn in my silly games was wrong.

8:20 am ‘Hi Camilla, I just wondered if you fancied getting together with me and the guys at five past twelve near the old statue at Jefferson?’ I typed again before pressing send.

8:21 am ‘Hi Tom yes, sounds fab, to be honest after all that happened I didn’t think I would hear from you again and part of me was going to tell you to sod off but I am glad you have texted and it would be lovely to see you, catch you later alligator xxxxx.’

‘Well, that was easier than I thought. Perhaps she has forgiven me,’ I said to myself.

I did not have a clue about what I wanted to achieve from messaging her, only a few days ago we had split up but apart from Elsa and Aunt Mary she was the closest female to me, I needed distraction from everything and I thought Camilla was perfect for that very thing. I just recognized that both hated the sight of each other, so today might be a frenzy of fireworks.

Chapter Five.

Crumpled memories.

I wandered into the bedroom where I came across the pink envelope containing the card I had bought for Elsa’s special day, entitled ‘To the one, I love on her birthday.’ I thought this way I would not have to voice my undying devotion for her, I would let the words on the paper do all the talking, it was the cowardly road out and it suited me perfectly.

I headed back into the kitchen and delved through the drawer of bits and bobs as I named it, in search of a pen. I packed it to the rafters with a myriad of things, balloons, stamps, half a peg, cello tape, tape measure, candle, fluff, plastic bag, cuddly toy!

The title on the birthday card may be appropriate on any other given day, but following yesterday’s standoff with her, and the fact I thought she had been a bitch, I chose the option of correction fluid. I pulled out the little white paintbrush and carefully covered the words ‘one I love’ and allowed it to dry before picking up the pen and writing ‘to Elsa’. I did not even have the confidence to use the word friend now.

I sat staring at the birthday card, wondering which words would be apt. I picked up the pen and opened it.

‘Happy birthday Elsa, lots of love Tom, I love you, will you be mine for all eternity xxx?’ I mumbled.

‘I am not sure that will go down well, not today anyway.'

‘Happy birthday Elsa, if you have eyes for Ruben and I am not being paranoid then f*** you and f*** him too! I wish you a crappy day, love Tom, xxxx,’ was my next thought.

‘True, but not very appropriate,’.

‘Happy birthday, Elsa, Tom,’ was my next option.

This fitted perfectly into my mindset and the present climate. These words voiced my thoughts toward her, but I could not be that clinical. I opted for Happy birthday, have a lovely day, Tom with one, no two kisses before sealing the envelope and placing the card on the table.

The morning slipped away like the coffee in my cup, heralding the start of the afternoon. I hoisted my crumb ridden carcass from the sofa, brushing aside a half-eaten packet of chocolate digestives, and made my way to the bedroom. I stopped for a moment at the picture of my Mother and sat on the bed with it in my hand. I gently rubbed at its dusty surface and it immediately brought the memories of when I could touch her soft face as a child. She looked beautiful, so young, so perfect. Her eyes reflected nothing but pure untainted love, a love she displayed toward me every day of her life.

Every moment I spent with my mother was the best and brought me nothing but joy. Whether it was a simple bedtime story or our infamous caravanning holidays on the south coast. She had a smile that was not only infectious but could bring a myriad of light to the darkest of days and instilled in me such great values from an early age. They taught me to respect my fellow man and woman, to always try to help those less fortunate than myself, to be a wonderful human being. I still hold these qualities paramount in my world, even though since she passed my existence has been a bit of a train wreck, I will never forget how this beautiful imprisoned in a glass frame prepared me for adulthood.

‘What would you say to me now Mum, would you be proud of me or disappointed?’ I asked as a single tear fell from my face and splashed against the image of her washing away at the dust.

‘I do not understand what to do Mum, what to do about Elsa, I am struggling to tell her how I feel, I know if you were here with me then it would all be better,’ I said through my tears.

‘I love you and miss you so very much,’

My Aunt also tried to do her best for me, but following my mother’s death, I became difficult to deal with for many years. Her passing left a hole inside me that nobody could seal.

My runaway father left me with something. It was a crumpled piece of stationery bearing the words I love you, son, now, always and forever, Dad. I was not sure why I had kept this for so long; I wanted to believe he did, maybe I needed to be closer to him and this was the missing link, either way, I had. To this day, I still could not get my head around how he scrawled such emotions and remain contactless for such a lengthy time. Not a letter or a phone call ever since.

My memories of him had been one of uncertainty and sometimes fear. He was an all-consuming figure and demanded respect. He would not hesitate to reprimand me if I got out of hand in his words and the sight of this man that towered above me and a few choice remarks from his mouth, was, more repeatedly than not enough to tame the savage beast that lurked inside of me. He loved his drink, swore too much, and was regularly the first to get up and dance at the parties we threw in our back garden. He was the life and soul of them, he could move too, he had that Irish jig coursing through his veins. I would commonly think of him mainly with feelings of misery, where he may be, whether he yearned to see me at all, how his story turned out, thoughts of him were always short-lived though as my sadness would turn to anger because he left me when I needed him most.

Part of me often wondered what type of Father I would have been if I ever fathered children, I hoped I would be a good one, but I guess you never know until you find yourself in that position.

I gently placed the picture of Mum back on the table under the bedroom window, wiped at my eyes, and ran a handful of mousse through my hair before picking up my keys. I left my apartment and headed down the road to Jefferson Park. My street was bustling, as usual, Mr. Flemming from number 54 busy cleaning his impeccably presented 1977 beige Ford Cortina, a car I had always longed for and admired.

‘Morning Tom, lovely day for it’ he shouted, holding his chamois aloft.

‘It is Mr. Flemming, have a good one.’

‘You too son!’ he replied.

Mrs. Giles knelt, tending to her rose bushes at number 29. As a youngster, I thought she was a witch. Part of me still did. I felt a sense of eeriness in her, which coupled with the enormous mole on her cheek and her bony face; just added to my judgment. She had a look, frightening gawk, and a high-pitched wailing voice. She lived across the road from me and Elsa when we were growing up and I remember the days when I would return home from school. She would be at the window with a deathly stare. She only needed a cauldron. What made it worse is she moved from my old street two years after I moved into my apartment and took residence a few doors from me, I persuaded myself she was stalking me.

I paced the pavement in trepidation, turning down onto Baker lane. My mind was fuzzy, my emotions all over the place, and the fear of them bringing up my absence last night only added to my anxiety.

It was obvious, even to a layperson, that I didn’t turn up for the evening’s ritual because I had thrown my dummy out of the pram and I knew one of them or all of them would want to why.

It was then my phone pinged.

11:47 am ‘Hi Thomas glad you are okay, I worried last night, we all did, see you later, Elsa xxxxx.’

I stopped for a moment to analyse the words before my eyes. The first piece of information that came to light was obvious, the number of kisses. It astounded me to receive five in a message from her. The max usually being three. I scrolled through previous messages. They were all three’s and sometimes two’s if my actions annoyed her in the slightest, so to have so many was like a massive sign she forgave my idiocy. Her text made me rapidly regret inviting Camilla today, I had indirectly played another stupid card that I carried in my top pocket. However, now I had to face the showdown that would almost definitely ensue between the two of them.

Chapter Six.

Ladies locking horns.

Walking through the rust ridden gates, I could see my friends gathered around the statue. My mind fell into the past at that moment as I recalled us all as children again. Michael and Gabriel arguing over whose conker was the best, even though often it was mine that reigned supreme. I remembered Elsa and Ruben chasing butterflies in Jefferson park, giggling and screaming with joy as they jumped into the air hoping to catch one. They had regularly played together and had always been close. Perhaps my paranoia was a culmination of how tight they were and how I felt watching them at the Saxon Mill.

I could see Elsa talking to Ruben and once again she was nestling into him. I noticed her hand on his arm as they stood there giggling and flirting with each other. I wanted to go over and drag them apart, but I did not feel like that action would be appropriate, even though it would give me great satisfaction

'Hi Tom, we missed you last night, are you okay? asked Ruben.

'No Ruben things aren’t they are very far from okay, you see my ruthless friend I know you are making a play for the woman I love and you are going to break our lifelong pact, so in answer to your question gain matters are not okay. Oh yes, and while I am at it you, my chum, you are a bloody sneaky little rat,’ was that response that rattled in my head.

‘Yes Rube, I remembered I needed to record a program last night but struggled to set the VCR and before I knew it, the time had flown. I was going to come out but then I fell asleep and when I woke it was three in the morning,’ I replied, lying through my teeth.

‘Any way you are here now Tom, that’s all that matters,’ he said.

‘Elsa, nice to see you’ I said acknowledging her existence and smiling. She looked amazing, like a beautiful flower rising from the patch of horse manure she cuddled with. In the space of a few minutes, Ruben had transformed from a human being to a big fat pile of steaming shit.

‘I am glad you could make today Thomas’ she replied sheepishly rummaging through her bag and pulling out her lipstick and mirror, I watched as the end of the tip painted her luscious lips, I wanted to be it, to caress that sweet-scented soft mouth one more time. A familiar sound dragged me kicking and screaming from my dreamlike state, which ended up smashed to smithereens.

‘Hello Tom, Mike, Gabe and Rube, oh and you too Elsa, I didn’t see you for a moment, your outfit blended into the bush, like your personality you seemed almost invisible and I didn’t realise we agreed to wear fancy dress!’ were the next words that cut through the still of the afternoon air. I turned; it was Camilla.

‘I invited Camilla today because, well because...’

‘Because what Tom?’ asked Camilla expectantly.

‘Because I thought it would be nice!’ I replied to them all. The fact is, I did not understand why I had done it, except that I was attempting subconsciously to seek a reaction from Elsa.

‘Oh, hello Camilla, I was unaware you were coming with us, Thomas didn’t say, and this week had always just been us five, our gang,’ said Elsa looking her up and down and sneering.

‘Yes, it had always been the five of us Elsa, but as I just said, I invited Camilla because I wanted to. As you said yesterday the pact, we created is a childish teenage agreement. I thought perhaps the gang needs a bit of an update, you know, another female to balance it out a little,’ I replied on Camilla’s behalf.

‘That is fine Thomas, you have it your way!’ replied Elsa as she popped her lipstick and mirror back in her bag and placed her hands on her hips. I diverted my attention from her, but I could feel her eyes burning deep into my core. I knew what I had done was not in keeping with the so-called group guidelines, but if you think a pact is stupid, then the rules are too.

‘Oh, I love your outfit, have you just finished your shift at a strip club?’ said Elsa sarcastically, looking Camilla up and down.

‘Nope, I bought it with Tom in mind, so he could see what he was missing, he always loved me wearing skimpy outfits, he said it showed off my best attributes!’ replied Camilla, turning her back on Elsa and walking toward me.

‘I am glad you came, it’s so good to see you,’ I whispered to Camilla before placing an awkward kiss on her cheek and sauntering past Elsa.

I could feel Elsa’s glare burning through the skin on the back of my neck as we passed her. It did not faze me; I was well within my rights to invite another into the fold. There were no rules, no pact, I would be and do whatever I wanted now that I had cast the rulebook to the flames of the past.

‘Hey Tom, thank you for inviting me here today, does this mean?’ asked Camilla.

I looked down at her, her eyes staring up at mine with such hope, I could not lie to her. The only reason I invited her was to annoy Elsa.

We shared many interests and our personalities almost identical, but I lived life bound by feelings of love that lay buried inside my heart and I needed to be true to myself. No more plastic relationships.

‘I was hoping we could be friends, Camilla if that’s okay with you,’ I replied.

I felt like a proper cad as the smile of hope that had lit up her face moments ago morphed to one of despair, I just did not want to hurt her. I turned back to Elsa, who was now even closer to Ruben. She was flicking her hair around flirtatiously. Their actions riled me and sent my mind and emotions exploding through my hate-fuelled core.

‘Yes Camilla, I would like to be back with you!’

Camilla’s despair turned to excitement as she jumped on me, wrapping her legs around my waist, and pecked my face with her red lipstick infused lips. I can only describe it to you as like an excited puppy dog seeing its owner for the first time in a long while.

‘Who’s for ice cream’ hailed Gabriel, trying to break the moment of tension that was brewing between the two ladies in our company as he nervously trotted away toward the glace shop next to the bandstand, followed by the rest of us.

Camilla gripped my hand tight as we made our way through the grassy gardens, smiling at each other now and again. I can only compare to a Mills and Boon moment. Just me and her, and absolutely no game playing. We glided with the grace of a hippopotamus across the green lawns. A vision to behold, me and her, the stripper clad woman of my dreams.

Nothing was going to stop me from having a good day today, and with the distraction of Camilla taking my mind from Elsa and Ruben, I stood a good chance.

Both the girls were vastly different. Camilla had short blonde hair with piercing blue eyes, standing a few inches shorter. Louder too and a little more brazen, not just her personality but her choice of attire and makeup. If they both had been animals, one would be the rabbit, cute and fluffy but prone to nipping at you if you annoyed it. Elsa would be a soaring and majestic eagle, flying gracefully above all.

‘So, Thomas are you and Camilla back together again?’ asked Elsa, pressing her luscious tongue deep into the icy dome beset on a wafer cone and staring at me with a look I can only describe as cheeky. It was not naughty, the like I have seen in the past, this was more childish. At that very moment, a part of me yearned to push that ice cream into her perfect facade and the meek side wanted to run for cover.

‘We are just seeing how things go, taking our relationship slow, complicated err, I am’ I blurted. Michael's face was a picture like he was trying to analyse the words falling from my mouth and struggling to process them. The look in his eyes, one of disbelief. I stood there in a muddy pool of idiocy.

‘Thomas and I are back together Elsa, it’s all good in the hood!’ said Camila as she removed the flake from my ice cream and bit down on it hard while offering me a glance, a cheeky and lustful one.

‘Well, this is a surprise, I am shocked Thomas on how quickly you can go from not being Camilla to being back with her. It must be something incredibly special,’ said Elsa.

‘Anyway, may I be the first to congratulate you both, you seem very well suited,’ said Elsa.

This comment would in some circumstances be congratulatory, but I knew Elsa was being sarcastic, her bitchy side would appear when they stood in each other's company, and looking at Camilla’s choice of wardrobe for that day made Elsa’s comments even more cutting.

‘This is good ice cream, perhaps one of the best icy treats I have ever tasted. What do you think, Gabe?’ asked Michael, trying to divert the boiling tension with the most useless question that had fallen from his mouth this year. Gabriel just looked confused, inspecting his cone to check the quality of it.

Ruben had disappeared. All that remained of him was the smell of manure and a distant sound of him teasing the swans as he chased them, something he did every time we came to the park. I loathed them, and they detested me. I wanted to join him, even though I hated the thought of it, anything to get away from this moment. Michael and Gabriel picked themselves up from the bandstand floor and sheepishly walked between the three of us to save themselves.

It was just the three of us, with me squashed between two women scorned and knowing Elsa and Camilla so well; I knew I was a lamb to the slaughter. I did not fancy my chances of survival as I stood there waiting for one of them to speak.

‘You both are a match made in heaven!’ exclaimed Elsa sarcastically.

‘Like Strawberries and cream Elsa, Tom is my squishy Strawberry, and I am his delicious cream. I see that you and Ruben seem to be awfully close to each other. You are both well suited too, two bookworms!’ Camilla retorted.

Elsa just huffed and carried on eating her Ice cream, which was melting quickly from the fire that was raging in her mouth.

‘We may get married one day!’ piped Camilla.

Elsa nearly choked on her ice cream. I wanted to run for my life, the earth caved in, people's heads exploded. The thought of marrying either of them at this moment sent feelings of absolute dread running through my core.

'I don’t think Thomas is the marrying type, to be honest, Camilla. said Elsa.

‘I think we should all just try to get along today, we could have a great day if we acted, well, you know, like good people, I am sure…’ I said nervously attempting to raise the white flag in the middle of the battlefield.

‘Shut up Thomas!’ was their reply to me in unison, so I did.

‘You may not like me Elsa, and to be honest, the feeling is mutual, so as Tom elegantly put it why don’t you shut your pie hole and I will do the same?’ snarled Camilla.

Elsa made a noise that I had only seen occasionally in my life, the first time being when she punched Billy Macdonald, the school bully in the face after he threw a racist remark at her minutes before he ended up on the ground crying like a baby. The second moment was when I accused her of being a liar based on some misinformation some children gave me. This was not the sound you wanted to hear exhaling from her mouth. However, she did nothing; she did not even respond to Camilla, she just stood there, much to my relief.

‘Take me to the swings, Tom’ said Camilla, lunging to her feet excitedly pulling at my arm. She reminded me of a child her silly ways as amusing as they were to me, would, more often than not, see me taking on the paternal role sensing the onset of some accident like her scraping her knees or banging her head which she did again and again.

I invested in a box of plasters to prepare for the eventuality. She was silly, and I liked that about her.

‘Okay, the swings it is!’ I replied, taking her by the hand and leading her to safety.

The park was empty of children that day, which, to be frank, was a good thing as Camilla’s outfit was more adults-only than parental guidance. The sun glared down on her white PVC minuscule attire as she placed herself on the seat of the swing and started thrusting back and forth ferociously with her legs flailing in the air. The sight of her seemed to disgust the two old ladies sitting on the bench feeding the pigeons. This was an adult-only moment watching this woman lunging, clad in shiny plastic, huffing, and puffing. To be honest, the moment felt almost pornographic.

‘I just love the swings!’ were the next words I heard as Elsa pushed past me and climbed onto the swing next to Camilla, the scene no longer a case of two women swinging in a playground, this was a competition, a battle.

Elsa arched her back, pushing from the ground with her shapely legs. I heard her groan as she used every bit of strength, she had to get onto height terms with her adversary. Her once perfectly formed mane of hair was flying wildly across her face as she swung madly. Her hips thrusting against the seat of the swing, making it go faster. She looked possessed; it was frightening, Gabriel, Michael, and Ruben who had overheard the commotion came over to spectate as two grown women yelped and screamed to gain a victory over the other. Faster and faster they went, higher and higher they ascended, offering each other a well-timed stare of sheer evil now and again. Then it happened, I knew it would, Camilla lost grip and crashed into the sandpit below, much to Elsa’s glee.

‘I bagged Thomas though, didn’t I!’ she snarled at Elsa, wiping the wet sand from the shiny material which now had ridden up her backside.

The afternoon ended up being a dose of constant jibes and one-upmanship between both women, with Elsa leading the field by a furlong in nearly all outcomes. Michael, Gabriel, and Ruben enjoyed it, egging both on at every opportunity. But as the heated air, cooled, so did their tempers and the battle of the female sexes was over and not before time.

‘Okay, who’s for the King’s Head?’ asked Michael.