Page 38 of My Summer of Magic Moments

So he did know. ‘Well, it’s not been the best of times … But hey, I’m still here to tell the tale.’ She paused, her mouth drying as she thought back to the unlucky ones, the ones who never got their second chance. How arbitrary it all was, how bloody cruel. She stared out across the sea. Sometimes it got to her – the emotions just crept up on her.

‘Claire, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’

‘Oh … yes, I’m okay. It’s just that some of my friends on the ward … they didn’t make it.’ She had to stop talking as she felt the clutch of emotions at her throat, in her gut.

He looked at her sympathetically, then looked away to sea, giving her a chance to compose herself. They were both quiet for a while.

‘That’s tough.’ He spoke first. ‘But I bet your column’s helped a lot of people. Not just those going through it, but family and friends. It certainly helped me understand a lot more.’

‘I hope so. That was the idea. And I suppose it was good for me too, in a way. Writing it down kind of helped me understand my own feelings better. Even writing down the weird and funny things. I remember my mother sitting with me at the first chemo session, reading all the pamphlets. ‘Oh look, Claire,’ she comes out with. ‘At least you’ll get free pedicures.’ Trust my mum to find a silver lining. I had to smile. And the nice folk at Macmillan Cancer Support offer all sorts of things to prop you up, from headscarf-tying sessions to free massages. People still laugh in a cancer ward, you know.’ Laugh and cry and live and love, she mused.

He nodded, looking at her intently.

‘Anyway.’ She wanted to lighten the mood. ‘That’s all done now, and here I am. A new chapter in my life. I’m one of the lucky ones.’

‘Good.’ He nodded, picked up his glass and clinked it with hers. ‘Cheers, Claire … to your very good health.’

‘You too – to health and happiness.’ They smiled at each other.

He gave a small sigh. Now he was looking out across the sea, as though happiness was somehow a very long way off. Then he turned back, raised his glass and clinked it gently against hers. She wasn’t sure why, but that gesture seemed significant, made her feel that this might be the beginning of something.

They sat chatting. He told her a little more about his work. He’d been developing designs for the new library building for the university, something quite cutting-edge by the sounds of it. How did you dream up a building? She admired the fact that he could. But when her questions got a little more personal about his home and his life, he brushed them aside.

‘Ah, there’s not much to tell about me. It’s a pretty quiet life I lead. Home. Work. That’s about it.’

She persevered. ‘Do you live on your own, then?’ She was being nosy, but she really needed to find out if there was someone else on the scene. If there was anyone else involved at all, then this was going nowhere. After everything with Paul, she could never do that to someone else. She needed to be clear. No point getting into him, if that was the case. It would just be a polite, neighbourly dinner and she’d be on her way.

‘Yes.’ A one-word answer, and the stony look on his face told her she really shouldn’t ask any more. He got up to his feet. ‘Right well, I’d better do something with the food or we’ll never get supper at this rate.’ He filled her glass. ‘I won’t be long – don’t go anywhere.’ He smiled and raised an eyebrow ironically as though very aware of his own rapid departure last time.

‘I won’t.’ She sipped her wine, relaxing back into the chair.

‘Right … good.’

She sat looking out across the evening seascape. The colours were now beautifully muted from the bold shades of a summer day – a gentle blue with a pale-gold horizon that reflected in a shimmer on the waves, a hint of peach just filtering through. Ten minutes later Ed was back. He added a small log to the chiminea, and then checked on the barbecue she’d watched him set up that afternoon.

‘Starters won’t be long,’ he announced as headed back towards the French doors. ‘It’s nothing too complicated.’

Claire watched a pair of black-and-white oystercatchers wander about at the seashore, dipping their bright-red bills into the sands. The waves hushed as they broke into gentle white froth: the sea was calm this evening. She warmed her toes by the chiminea, gave Bess a pat on the back as she lay there relishing the warmth. Felt the peace of the place. How wonderful it was just to be.

Soon Ed was on his way back bearing two plates. ‘Goat’s cheese – hope you like it. It’s from the local deli.’

Claire had to smile. So he’d been in to see Lynda. She wondered briefly if her friend might be in on tonight’s meal? Knowing how Ed guarded his privacy, probably not.

‘Looks lovely. Thanks.’

He lay the plate in front of her, then sat down opposite. The cheese had been grilled golden and was on a bed of mixed salad leaves with a dressing. She lifted her fork – balsamic dressing by the taste of it. Gorgeous. The cheese was slightly melted, so oozed as she cut into it. Scrummy.

‘This is really good.’

‘Great.’ He looked relieved. ‘Fairly simple, I know, but my culinary skills are limited, I’m afraid.’

Okay, so he was more of an assembler than a chef, but she could settle for that. And with delicious ingredients like this, the end result was great anyhow.

‘It’s so beautiful here, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Especially when you get a day like this. That view …’ Sea and sky and golden sand, so many shades of blues and greys and golds – she’d never tire of it.

‘Yeah, there is something pretty special about this place. Don’t get me wrong, I really like Edinburgh too, but here it’s so different – that sense of space and nature. There’s a little bit of magic about it. It keeps you coming back.’

‘Yes, I know.’