Sports Day
The mid-afternoon sun scorched Ben Shipley’s neck as he bent down to tie his trainers – an action he carried out with blithe precision at least ten times a day and yet here he was, all fingers and thumbs, his heart racing, stomach churning. In fact, the last time he’d felt this nervous, he’d been watching his daughter being yanked into the world by a pair of medieval-looking forceps.
A lifetime ago.
Well, seven years ago, to be precise.
So many rites of passage since then: Rosie’s first steps, her first words, her first day at this very school. But today
