Lessons From Ducks by Tammy Robinson Read Free Book Online Page B

colour of just ripened strawberries, but from this distance he couldn’t be sure whether it was natural or an enhancement. When she had blessed them with that brief smile they had drawn apart ever so slightly and curved up in the middle like a pretty letter m, and on her left cheek a dimple had creased her cheek.
    They were, without a doubt, the most remarkable lips he had ever seen, and he found it hard to take his eyes off them to look back up into her eyes.
    “Are you sure?” he finally answered her, “we don’t mind walking the rest of the way with you, do we Oscar?”
    Beside him Oscar sighed. His stomach was actively protesting now and making the kinds of noises that suggested it was about to start eating itself, but he didn’t want to be impolite.
    “No,” he said, “we don’t.”
    “Oscar? What a charming name. You don’t meet many Oscars in this day and age do you,” Anna mused. “Named after any Oscar in particular –?
    “Yes, but not the one you’re thinking of.”
    “How do you know which one I’m thinking of?”
    “Tell me I’m wrong and you’re not thinking of Oscar Wilde then.”
    “I can’t,” she admitted. “He was the only Oscar that sprung to mind.”
    The man laughed. “He always is.”
    “So if not him, then who?”
    “I don’t want to say.”
    “Why not?”
    “I’m worried you’ll judge me.”
    She was astounded. ‘Oh well now you have to tell me.”
    But the man shook his head and clamped his lips shut, “Mm-mm,” he mumbled, so Oscar himself spoke up.
    “I’ll give you a clue; he lives in a rubbish bin.” His flat tone suggested he was used to conversations like this.
    It took a few seconds for Anna to reconcile this information. “You mean –?”
    The man squeezed his eyes shut and nodded warily.
    “You named your child after Oscar the Grouch?”
    The man opened his eyes. “Guilty.”
    “Oh,” Anna didn’t quite know what to say about that. Then she rallied, “Well he’s always been my favourite character on Sesame Street, anyway.”
    “Really?” Oscar asked hopefully.
    “Really,” she confirmed. “Independent, speaks his mind, doesn’t hold back – a straight shooter, the best way to be.”
    The man smiled at her gratefully. “My thoughts exactly. In fact, that’s why I chose the name. That and I just loved the way it sounds, Oscar, is there any more perfect name?”
    “No,” Anna agreed quietly, “there’s not.” But she downcast her eyes as she said it and the man remembered her earlier confusion.
    ‘Ben,’ she had called his son at the playground.
    There was a story there. And in that moment he became determined to get to the bottom of it.
    He held out a hand, “Matthew,” he introduced himself, “but everyone calls me Matt.”
    She placed her cool fingers into his warm ones and felt her blood thaw a degree. “Anna.”

Chapter six
     
    “This is me,” Anna said, placing her hand on top of her gate, and turning to face Matt and Oscar.
    “Wow,” Oscar breathed, his eyes wide as he took in the jungle that was her cultivated garden, and the red house in front of him. “You live in a barn?”
    “I do,” Anna affirmed. His reaction pleased her; it was similar to the one she’d had when the estate agent had first shown her the property.
    “That’s so cool!”
    “Thank you.”
    “Dad, why don’t you live in a barn?”
    “According to your mother the inside of my place often looks like one.”
    Anna smiled while Oscar groaned. “No, she says it looks like a pigsty, not a barn.”
    “My mistake.”
    Matt couldn’t help but notice that Anna kept herself between them and the gate, as if to ward off any possible entry attempts.
    “Have you lived here long?” he enquired.
    Again a shadow flitted across her face as if a cloud had just blown in front of the sun.
    “A few years,” she answered.
    If he were waiting for any further information none was forthcoming.
    “Well,” he said finally when it was clear he would need to