Page 44 of My Summer of Magic Moments

She scoured the driveway – no sign of him for now. Bolting out of the door, she piled her bags into the boot, locked the cottage door and put the key back under the flowerpot outside. Security wasn’t tight, but who the hell would want to break into that hovel anyhow.

‘Claire.’ His voice was taut. Shit, he was out of his house, striding across. ‘What the hell’s going on?’

As if he didn’t know. She tried to make it to the car.

‘You tell me, Ed. You tell me.’ The bitterness spilled over into her voice.

‘What the –?’

How dare he play the innocent.

‘Oh, come on, I’ve had enough of being lied to, Ed. The woman, the photo by your bed.’

His face dropped. He paled. At least he didn’t try to deny it. He just didn’t say anything.

So he’d been caught. No defence. No, ‘You’ve got it all wrong.’

She opened her car door, got in, slammed it closed. Pulled the gearstick into reverse and turned the car with a satisfying spin of the gravel. A few more inches back and she might have hit him. The bastard would have deserved it. She pulled out into the main road, throwing a glance at the rear-view mirror. He was just standing there staring after her.

19

The first time I heard my daughter giggle

Sean, LA

Back to work. Back to reality.

Sitting at her desk on Tuesday morning, Claire stared out of the window, past a section of the brick-built office block opposite them at a corner of the Tyne Bridge and a fragment of blue sky and puffy white clouds.

‘Earth calling … Claire? Do you read me?’

‘Uh … Oh, hi, Andrea. Sorry, not quite with it there for a mo.’ This was no good, drifting off into some lost zone in her head. She was meant to be writing her latest article. Focus woman.

‘I can tell. I was asking if you wanted a cup of coffee? I’m just about to make myself one.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Maybe caffeine would do the trick, perk her up a bit.

She’d been finding it really hard to settle since getting back from Bamburgh and the seaside cottage. Not that she should even be letting that tosser of a man into her thoughts. And it was a bloody shame he’d spoilt her seaside retreat now too. She really couldn’t face going back there now, not with that asshole next door.

Okay, enough of that – she shouldn’t even give him the credit of head space. Andrea was heading off in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Thanks,’ Claire called after her. She flicked to her emails on the laptop screen – thirty-nine new messages. Twelve appeared to be junk, and – ooh, great – she was getting some more in with the subject line ‘My Magic Moments’.

She clicked on the first one: ‘Hi, Claire. Loved the last blog! My magic moment is the five minutes’ peace I get sitting alone in the kitchen with my first cup of tea of the day, before my hubbie and the kids get up. It’s so quiet and still, sometimes I might just hear a bird tweeting outside and that’s it. I can sit and sip my Tetleys and then the lovely but crazy family bedlam takes over.’

She clicked on the second: ‘Claire. Magic moment. Bubble bath and a book!’

And there were more when she looked at the Herald’s Facebook page: ‘When Newcastle United beat Sunderland 5–0! Now that would be a magic moment!’

‘A winter-wonderland Icelandic evening with a good friend, a cosy bar, a guitar player, hot mulled wine and the snow falling softly outside.’

‘Hi Claire. The first time I heard my daughter giggle. Thanks for a great feel-good column, Sean x’

Then she spotted a hand-written envelope, addressed to her, that must have been put on her desk by one of the secretaries a little earlier. The paper was crisp white vellum, the handwriting neat and gently looped but with a slight wobble, suggesting the writer might be someone elderly. She leant back in her chair as she read:

Dear Claire,

Hope you are feeling much better now, my dear. My magic moment is the kiss my husband gives me at night before we go to sleep. It’s the last thing he does every day, and he has done this since the day we got married. We’ve been married for fifty-five years this July. We are also very lucky to have a lovely family, including six grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.

Very best wishes,