Smiling as she watched her child patter down towards the ocean, Gloria rolled out their beach-towels. Alone for the first time in days, the small family had finally escaped the rush of the city for the serene calm of the country – their first holiday since Connor had been born. As such, he'd never seen the sea, or smelled the salty air. At just three years old, he had very little experience of the world, apart from that of a Nanny, and the inside of their London apartment.

   Suddenly stopping as he reached the waves, Connor giggled excitedly. His bare feet stamped in the wet sand quickly as his tiny arms curled upwards, his innocently wide eyes gazing at the splashes he had caused. Each droplet caught the light as it fell back to the ground, creating the illusion of a crystal chandelier. He turned and waved at his mother, squinting up into the sunlight as he did so.

   Gloria returned the wave with the enthusiasm reserved only for one's children. It felt strange to her to be spending time with him – for the past three years she had barely been aware of having a child. Sure, she bore him for nine months, but as soon as that was over, she had had to return to work. Does that make me a bad mother? She wondered, her smile slipping. Luckily, Connor had chosen that moment to turn his gaze back to the great expanse of water behind him.

   Pausing as she pulled out her book from her satchel, Gloria sighed. At least I'm here... She thought, glancing at her husband's uninhabited towel. He had promised to come in a few hours – after he had finished drawing up the papers for his client's divorce. She knew he wouldn't. They would return to the chalet, and he'd still be there, on the phone arguing with others. It was always the case. He was too busy to spend time with her – let alone Connor.