Dorothy Koomson - Tell Me Your Secret

Location: Hove Promenade, opposite Palmeira Square

Transcript: ‘Why are we down here so early on a Sunday, Kobster?’ My son, of course, side-eyes me, eviscerates me with his glare for daring to call him Kobster. Only Sazz is allowed to do that. ‘Sorry, I mean, Light of my Life, My Illustrious Firstborn, why are we down here so early?’ ‘You know why,’ he replies. The sea is calm today, it sits out on the horizon like layers of blown glass. The sun has edged itself into the sky and the clouds are hanging low but aren’t yet threatening rain. We’re treated to interludes of bright yellow sunlight as we walk towards Brighton from the block opposite our road that leads down towards the sea. Only a couple of dog walkers and joggers are out this early. Everyone else is at home or in bed. ‘I do not know why,’ I state. Even though I absolutely do. ‘Mum, the seagulls are up to something. It’s my job to find out what.’ ‘They’re not up to something,’ I say quietly. ‘They are! They are plotting to take over,’ he says. ‘The things they do, it’s not right. They’re up to something.’ It’s a good thing Kobi doesn’t know about the movie The Birds – it would give credence to this theory. ‘What do you think they’re actually going to do?’ ‘Take over the world, of course.’ ‘Of course.’ We pass a dark green bench, one that I regularly used to sit on when it was just me in that house, and it took coming to the sea-front and experiencing that expanse to make me appreciate my flat wasn’t too big for one, after all. ‘Can I borrow your phone, please?’ Kobi asks. ‘I need to take some photos.’ ‘Nope.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘I’m not encouraging this nonsense, Kobi. Your good buddy Sazz might indulge it, but not me.’ ‘Fine,’ he huffs, sounding exactly like me. ‘I’ll have to do it myself.’