Lollipop Park

LOOKING out of the flat’s lounge window I can see it’s going to be one of those grey days when the weak sun plays peek-a-boo behind a veil of cloud. I suppose I ought to expect it. It’s March –all too soon winter will set in.

“What do you think, Luce? Are the weathermen going to be right for a change? Is it going rain?”

I turn back to my daughter, who’s play-marching her doll along the glass-topped coffee table. I really hope the weather stays dry. There’s a fête at the local community centre later this afternoon and there’s going to be dancing and all kinds of displays. It should be fun but if Lucy’s too tired to go, we should still be able to hear the music if I leave her bedroom window open. There might even be