Dad took us to sea in a bargain car-boot dinghy. Found the beach, no bother. With Dad’s map-reading there wasn’t a hope of getting lost.
‘Here we are then. Rhossili!’ Dad’s words barked from him like a polished sign.
There was a heavy suggestion of clouds. The beach was deserted. Normal people had warmer things to be doing with their January Sundays.
The boat looked like something you’d play with in the bath.
We clung on like limpets. Dad sliced through the waves. The coldness soaked through to our bones. All hope anchored on the Antiques Roadshow – Dad never missed.
Published in paperback: Ada and more nano-fiction by Leaf Books Ltd 2009