Page 19 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Clare will be thrilled to have you here,’ Liz had declared. ‘She’s been looking after a baby on her own for almost a year – believe me, she’ll be glad of an extra pair of hands.’

What had possessed her to say all that? She had no one to blame for this deception but herself. And Mike, of course. Causing havoc in her life again.

‘They smell amazing.’ Skye’s voice startled her; she wasn’t used to having another person in the house. ‘You’re making my stomach rumble.’

Skye had spent the last hour at the dining table on her laptop learning about the business. She was trawling through The Seaside Gourmet Girls’ website, clicking on every picture, reading past menus and jotting notes on a pad. With her blonde hair tied up in a coloured scarf, her deep suntan and bare feet tucked underneath her, she looked like she’d walked straight off a beach in Bali. She could be nineteen, thought Liz fondly, not twenty-nine.

‘It’s our little tradition,’ Liz replied. ‘Jen and I always had a cream tea ready for Clare when she arrived. I didn’t know whether to do it or not, now that her mum’s not here. But in the end I thought it would be worse if I didn’t.’

‘I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. It’s nice that you’ve got your special things,’ Skye said with a touch of wistfulness.

Liz could have bitten her tongue off for being so insensitive. She and Skye had no special things. Skye hadn’t even visited her here very often. More cowardly behaviour on her part, Liz acknowledged.

Even though Jen had been happy for Liz to be Skye’s godmother, it felt a bit like rubbing Mike’s infidelity in Jen’s face by inviting Skye to stay with her in Salcombe. Even more so once Jen had moved down here from Bath and they had started up in business together. Clare had spent all her holidays here and had helped them out in the summer when she was a student. It had always been Clare’s place rather than Skye’s.

And although Liz had stayed friends with Mike when he’d married for a second and then a third time, she’d never been friendly with the new wives. All of which added up to Liz having a far stronger bond with her first god-daughter.

Still, Liz had the next few weeks to make it up to her; she’d show Skye that she was every bit as welcome at Clemency House as Clare was.

Liz opened the fridge to take out the butter, it would be soft for spreading on the scones. Her eye fell on the bottle of wine which she’d opened last night. She almost salivated at the sight of it. A cold, crisp mouthful of Pinot Grigio would be just the thing to steady her nerves. She checked to see that Skye was still facing the other way and unscrewed the lid. Just as she took a swig, the business mobile began to buzz. Liz choked as the wine went down the wrong way and almost dropped the bottle in her haste to get it back into the fridge.

Skye leapt to her feet, picked up the phone from the kitchen island and thumped Liz on the back. ‘You OK?’

Liz nodded. ‘You answer it,’ she said with a croaky voice.

Since she’d charged up the business phone yesterday, calls had been coming through steadily all day.

Hard to believe that only twenty-four hours had gone by since she’d been in touch with Viv to say she was open for bookings. Viv had been delighted to be able to offer Liz’s services again and had even given her a booking for Monday for a last-minute dinner party.

Viv had also promised that an email would be going out to all her holiday renters immediately, signposting them to The Seaside Gourmet Girls. Fast-forward to this afternoon and the diary was already filling up.

‘And on a personal note,’ Viv had added before ringing off, ‘it’s good to have you back. Jen would be proud.’

Which had had Liz’s eyes brimming with tears.

‘OK, here goes.’ Skye cleared her throat before accepting the call. ‘The Seaside Gourmet Girls, can I help you?’

Liz listened with half an ear, while Skye gave a hesitant rundown of the services they offered. Skye was a sweet girl and so thrilled at the prospect of working for her over the summer that Liz wished she’d thought to offer her the job herself, instead of entering into a clandestine arrangement with Mike.

Not that there had even been a job before Mike had dropped his bombshell, of course.

‘Hold the line please,’ said Skye politely, before putting her hand over the phone to muffle it. ‘Liz, are we taking bookings for Christmas?’

‘Heaven forbid,’ Liz blurted out.

‘So is that a no?’ Skye looked at her unsurely.

Yesterday, Liz hadn’t even been sure she wanted to carry on with the business this summer, let alone through the winter. She wasn’t ready to think that far ahead.

‘I’m planning on taking some time off over Christmas. So the answer is no, not at the moment.’

‘Got it,’ said Skye. ‘Hello? Unfortunately we …’

Liz walked through the open sliding glass doors and onto the terrace, leaving Skye to finish the call.

Twenty thousand pounds by September.

Not turnover, profit. To be taken out of the business bank account and handed over to Mike. Liz felt sick every time she thought about it. She sat down at one of the wrought-iron chairs, but instead of looking out over Salcombe and across the water as she usually did, she gazed up at her beautiful home, passed down to her from her parents after her mum died.