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“Always.”
Chapter Three
Mum doesn’t mention anything more about my birthday. We usually stay in Tregethworth and go for a meal at The Port William or The Little Bistro.
There were plenty of other places nearby, but we liked what we knew.
“Morning!” She bursts into my room. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” She sits at the foot of my bed with a bag on her lap, grinning from ear to ear.
“Morning, Mum. Thank you.” I was awake, but I still felt groggy with sleep.
“Here.” She pushes the bag towards me. “Presents.”
She always got me the best gifts. They weren’t big or over the top — her budget didn’t afford that — but she made up for what she lacked in money with how personal and special each gift was. She just knew what I’d want.
I peer inside the bag and see several neatly wrapped gifts, all with bows and ribbons. They look perfect, and I almost don’t want to tear into them and spoil the aesthetic.
Almost.
Pulling out the first one, I look up at Mum. She has a soft smile on her face, as though her excitement is fading, and she’s simply waiting for my opinion. I gingerly peel away the wrapping and pull out a leather notebook. It’s heavy and thick with luscious, creamy pages. The brown cover is smooth and beautiful, and in the bottom corner, there’s an A embossed with gold.
“I thought you could start writing down those endings to make those films better.”
Mum, being an artist herself, had always wanted me to take a creative path. And I can’t help but be pulled in by the beautiful gift. It’s a work of art in itself, too nice for me to mar the pages.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” I go to lean in for a hug.
“No, keep going. Hugs after.”
I pull the next one, a box about four inches square. I gently pull at the paper and reveal what looks like a jewellery box. My eyes look up at her, but she just encourages me to keep going. As I crack the box open, I see it’s not jewellery but a watch with a silver strap, a small dial, and a tiny diamond on the face. It’s understated and sophisticated — perfect.
“Mum, it’s great.” I smile at her.
“I wanted to get you something you’d always be able to keep. Here.” She holds her hand out, and I give her the watch so she can wrap it around my free wrist. “It’s waterproof, too. So, you don’t need to worry about taking it off if you forget.”
The last one is squishy, so I guess it’s clothes. And I’m right. It’s a pretty turquoise-blue top with small flowers dotted over it. It’s a little more sophisticated than I’d usually wear, but I like the idea of maybe getting dressed up to wear it out.
“And I booked us at a seafood restaurant in Constance Cove.”
“Really?”
“It’s your birthday.” She shrugs and now is when I jump forward to hug her.
Constance Cove was a short drive from Tregethworth, but it was nothing like it. A beautiful white sand beach was the star, with a small private harbour lined with glass and steel homes, all worth millions. It was where the rich holidayed. Little boutiques and expensive restaurants littered the cobbled streets leading down to the cove.
It didn’t have the same laid-back atmosphere as Tregethworth, but it was pretty and certainly exclusive, filled with second-home owners. We’d been there a few times. Mum had tried to sell some of her pieces to one of the jewellery stores, but it wasn’t the right fit. Her prices were off by at least one zero.
“I don’t have anything to wear!” I realise.
“The top would be perfect.”
“Shoes, Mum? I can’t go there wearing flip-flops.”
“You have sandals. And your black wrap skirt is fine.”
“I didn’t pack that,” I protest, having a bit of a panic.
“But I did. You can’t just get a table. I’ve had this planned for us.” She beams. “Come on. Up. Breakfast at Molly’s. Pancakes?”
