Page 10 of My Summer of Magic Moments

As they passed next door’s garden, Claire was sure she could hear what sounded like a large dog barking from the house. Hmm, she hadn’t heard or seen a dog there last weekend. She put the thought to the back of her mind as she and her sister strolled along the shoreline, soon taking off their shoes and paddling in the shallows. Claire couldn’t resist a splashing session – taking the two of them right back to the days of sibling fun-fighting. Both ended up laughing and rather damp from the waist down. No matter – the sun was warm and they’d dry in no time.

‘It’s nice to see you smiling again.’ Sally touched her arm.

‘Nice to be smiling again. See, told you – I’m fine. And even if the house is a bit ramshackle, it seems to be doing me some good.’

‘Maybe it is,’ Sal had to concede.

At the end of the day, supper eaten and cleared away, they sat out on the balcony taking in the evening sun with the last of the red wine. Claire had produced a supper of local cheese and her third attempt at homemade bread – a white bloomer with a rosemary and sea-salt crust, cold meats, juicy tomatoes, olives (a bit of an Italian theme going on), with a bottle of Chianti. Now the pair of them sat chatting easily. Claire’s concerns about her sister’s intrusion on her hideaway time had eased. It was actually really nice. They were beginning to rediscover that close sisterly bond they’d had as teenagers, which had somehow slipped into the middle distance when husbands and children and other diversions were around. She’d forgotten quite how well they did get on when it was just the two of them.

Halfway down the second bottle of red now, Sal having had the bulk of it, they were sat out on the balcony wrapped in duvets they’d brought out from their bedrooms. ‘I know it’s hurt like hell, Clairebo, but I think that prick of a husband of yours leaving isn’t such a bad thing. Not in the long run.’

Well that was pretty blunt. Claire stared at her. Sal had never warmed to her husband Paul from the start (correction: ex-husband, as of eight weeks) – there had always been a frostiness between them. Not that they’d ever had an argument, or that anything in particular had happened; it was just that they were almost too polite when they had to meet – there was a coolness that hadn’t changed over time.

‘You are better off without him, you know,’ she continued.

It was still a little raw, even though Claire knew that it was probably the truth. ‘The less said about him the better,’ she muttered. How did you just forget six years of marriage? All those good times as well as the bad. She went quiet for a while.

‘You’re probably right,’ she conceded after a pause.

She remembered how it had happened. She’d been given the good news from the oncologist after a follow-up scan, that there was no further evidence of cancer, and was so relieved. It was the week afterwards, that was all, when she was back at home looking forward to the future, their future. He’d just come out with it. Told her that he’d been seeing someone else, that it had started before her diagnosis. He couldn’t have left her like that. So all the while, all through the op, the chemo, the radiotherapy, the first months of recovery, they’d been living a lie. His staunch, loving support had been merely duty, a cover for his guilt. She’d found the energy, from sheer rage probably, to throw a suitcase at him and told him to get out. He had, swiftly, with a couple of overnight bags and his ticket to a new life and new lover.

Claire stayed quiet.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, Claire … but I just want you to be happy. You can be happy again.’

‘I know. I’m not rushing into anything, though. I mean man-wise. I wouldn’t say no to a bit of happiness.’ Claire laughed, a little too loudly. ‘It’s okay, Sal. It’s probably best out in the open. And thanks for coming up, sis. It’s nice that you’re here.’

‘Hey, no worries. It’s great to see you, and in fact it’s been lovely just to have a night away from the madhouse of my family. A bit of head space, you know. I love ’em to bits, don’t get me wrong, but every now and then you just need a bit of time out from the demands of “Mummy, I need a poo, Mummy, I’m hungry, Mummy, I’m thirsty, Mummy, where’s my football kit?”’ She took a sip of her wine. ‘And the best? “Sal, if you’re tired, can I at least have a hand job?”’ The red wine was obviously loosening her reserve.

Claire laughed. ‘I wonder how he’s coping?’

‘What, Mark? He’ll be fine. He’s got hands of his own, you know.’ Sally giggled.

‘I mean with the boys.’

‘Ah, he’ll be okay. He’s pretty good with them, and it’ll do him good to spend some more time with them. And he’ll appreciate me even more when I come back, hopefully. They were heading off to the cinema this evening, latest Disney movie and a pizza supper. I’ll give them a call in the morning. It’s a bit late now.’

‘You’ll be lucky to get any signal anyhow.’

‘Ah, I see.’

Claire had never had that – a family of her own. Even with all the stresses of family life, Sally was happy – her children were her everything. You could see it written all over her face. Paul had never wanted children. That had seemed okay at first, when she was young and idolized him – they were fine as a couple. He had his engineering business, his busy life, the foreign holidays together; children would just get in the way. But she’d always wondered in a little hide-and-seek corner of her thoughts whether he might change his mind one day. A part of her had hoped he would.

‘Hey, do you realize it’s nearly midnight, Bo? Time for bed, methinks. Oh Jeez, have I really got to get into that fleapit now?’

‘It’s either that or a lumpy sofa.’

‘Christ, the things I do for you, sis. If I’m itching in the morning, you’re in for it, I can tell you.’ She half grinned, half shrugged, resigned to her fate. ‘If I ever need a getaway break, I won’t be coming here, that’s for sure. It’s going to be five stars in the Maldives.’

‘Great. If you need some company …’ Claire grinned.

‘Come on, then, let’s do this thing.’ Sal stood up.

The pair of them waddled in from the balcony in their duvets, looking an odd sight. They brushed their teeth, sharing the little floorboard-creaking bathroom. Then Sal headed off to her room. ‘Here goes.’

‘Night, Sal. Thanks again for coming.’

‘My pleasure, hun.’ There was a slight pause. ‘Except for the grotty bed.’