Page 35 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

Skye sat down cross-legged and gazed out towards the water. ‘Does anyone get to twenty-nine completely without baggage?’

‘Does that mean you’ve left someone broken-hearted in Uganda?’ Clare quizzed her.

‘No, I—’

Ivy chose that moment to crawl onto the sand and shovel a handful of it into her mouth.

‘Ack,’ she spluttered, her little face screwed up in disgust. ‘Ack.’

‘You’re not meant to eat it!’ Clare laughed.

Skye gave her a sidelong look. ‘Aren’t you going to stop her?’

Clare started assembling the beach tent she’d brought along for extra shade and shrugged. ‘Course not. Eating sand is like a rite of passage. And if I did stop her, she’d only do it again.’

Skye raised her eyebrows. ‘Wow.’

‘What does that mean?’ Clare said, defensively.

Skye grinned. ‘Just that I thought you’d be a helicopter mum, fussing over her. You’ve surprised me, that’s all.’

‘Oh,’ Clare said, mollified. ‘I’m trying to teach her to be independent.’

‘There’s no finer role model than you for that,’ said Skye, with a twinkle in her eye. She picked up her phone. ‘Mind if I take a photo of her?’

‘Go for it,’ said Clare, secretly pleased, both with the idea of being a role model and the offer of photos.

The downside of being a single parent, working full time with no family close by, was that preserving special moments – or even ordinary moments – on film took a back seat to the more basic jobs in life, such as keeping your child alive.

‘Ivy! Smile!’ said Skye.

The baby, clocking Skye’s phone, yanked off her sun hat, and posed for the camera, jutting out her bottom jaw to reveal two little teeth.

‘Cheese, Ivy,’ Clare encouraged, ‘say cheese!’

‘Eeee!’ cried Ivy jubilantly.

Skye looked at the screen and beamed. ‘Lovely. Listen, I’m going to get a coffee, do you want one?’

‘Cappuccino please.’ Clare automatically reached for her purse. ‘Hold on, I’ll give you some money.’

‘No need, I’ll get them.’ Skye waved her away.

‘I insist,’ Clare held out a ten-pound note. ‘I’ll get them.’

‘Why?’ Skye said hotly. ‘Just because my job isn’t as well paid as yours doesn’t mean I can’t treat you to a coffee.’

‘Keep your hair on,’ Clare grumbled. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, I suppose I’m just used to paying my own way, that’s all.’

‘Meaning I don’t, I suppose?’ Skye shot back.

‘No.’ Clare stared back. ‘Meaning exactly what I said; get off your high horse.’

‘Says the woman who had a strop over which bedroom Liz gave her.’ Skye gave her a sly look.

‘Dear, oh dear,’ said the man a few metres away busy building sandcastles for two little girls who were arguing over a pile of shells. ‘And I thought sisters stopped bickering when they grew up.’

Clare and Skye looked at each other, sheepish smiles nudging at their faces.