I’d been in a deep sleep when the children began their construction. They returned from the promenade, leaving ice-cream to melt down their fingers as they viewed their ravaged creation.
“Where’s Daddy? Did he go to buy cappuccinos?”
“He was fast asleep like you, and snoring, so we buried him in the sand then built the castle around his head,” they sobbed. “We thought he could escape.”
I crawled across to a sandy-covered hump.
Daddy was beyond escape.