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Last Night at Camber - Meet the Wildes
You find a sandcastle on the beach, studded with shells. It is a kingdom, an empire, abandoned by older children and all four of you are entranced. For the longest while you play with it, tracing the sand walls with your fingers, adding shells of your own to the turrets. It has a moat, and for a little while I contemplate fetching buckets full of water to fill it for you, wishing fervently all the while that I had brought paper to make boats. It is almost the end of our holiday and in spite of copious amounts of sunscreen that makes you smell of coconut, you sport golden tans, your hair is sun-bleached and crinkly with salt. You look like dream children, like you have been cut carefully from a catalogue, and I am full of disbelief again that you are mine. If we were at home it would…