Page 37 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

Clare nodded gravely. ‘His last words to me were, “Go, just go.”’

The more times she told this story, the more real it became to her. Not that there wasn’t some truth in it, she just tweaked it a bit.

Skye scowled. ‘Well, if I ever meet him, I’ll have some words of my own to say to him.’

Clare hid a smile; Skye had always seemed so shy growing up. It was quite comical to hear her so feisty.

‘How long were you together?’ Skye wanted to know.

Clare fiddled with the edge of the blanket, watching Ivy scoot back onto the sand. ‘Long enough to know we’re better off without him.’

‘Good for you,’ said Skye, moving closer to Ivy. She began filling the bucket with sand, handing Ivy the little rake to play with. ‘I envy you. That certainty. Knowing what you want – or don’t want – and sticking by it.’

‘Hmm,’ she replied vaguely, watching the two of them play together. She hadn’t been certain at all, not in the beginning.

Finding out she was pregnant had come as a massive shock. It was the very last thing she’d expected. To the point where when she noticed that her boobs had morphed from the size of compact clementines to sizeable Sevilles, she’d been four months pregnant. Within days, she’d had her first scan and, if she had been wavering about whether she wanted this baby or not, that grainy image on screen of her child with a massive head and limbs which appeared to be waving at her had quickly made her mind up.

She was going to be a mother.

She’d always wanted a child, or children. Even when documentaries of childbirth had made her friends feel sick and vow that they would never ever put themselves through that, Clare hadn’t wavered. Her relationship with her mum had been the strongest bond in her life. And, in the weeks after Jen died, Clare had felt untethered and lost.

The timing wasn’t great, especially as she had only just taken on the job of head teacher.

But this baby, as unexpected as it might have been, felt serendipitously right. She and her child would form a new bond, a relationship just as strong as the one she’d had with Jen. Only this time even better, because there’d be no man to meddle with their heads, or let them down, or pretend he loved them, then, as soon as a better offer came along, he’d take it and jump ship. The more Clare had thought about it, the more she’d realised that solo parenting was exactly the sort of family that she wanted.

She’d flung herself into the pregnancy and embraced every heartburn-filled second of it. The new life growing inside her gave her something to focus her emotions on. It also made her cut down her gin consumption, which had crept up from a Friday post-work treat to a nightly drowning of the sorrows every time her thoughts returned to how much she was missing her mother.

She knew that being a single parent would scupper her chances of a future love life, but she’d never been great at lasting relationships anyway.

‘It’s like you were waiting for me to slip up,’ James, one of her exes, had once said to her. ‘You never wholly trusted me, did you?’

Clare could only admit he was right, and they’d parted ways – sadly on his part, relieved on hers.

She didn’t need a counsellor to pinpoint the source of this mistrust; she already knew, right down to the actual day.

On the morning of her first day of school, when she’d left the house in a blue gingham dress and gleaming white socks, the Marriotts had been a family of three. By the time she’d made it back home brimming with stories to tell, it had withered to two: Mum and Clare.

‘No wonder you’re so self-sufficient.’ Skye’s voice cut into her thoughts.

Clare shrugged. ‘Needs must.’

‘I get that,’ said Skye. ‘But it’s OK to cut yourself some slack, you know. Let other people help. Like me. I haven’t even had a cuddle with Ivy yet.’

‘Haven’t you?’

Skye shook her head. ‘Every time I try, you whisk her away.’

Clare felt her neck go red. ‘It has been said that I have trust issues. With men.’

‘Just men?’ Skye’s lips twitched. ‘Can I take Ivy down to the water’s edge and let her put her feet in the sea?’

Clare was torn. She ought to say yes, show Skye she was taking on board the criticism, but Ivy’s first paddle was a special moment. She didn’t want to miss that. ‘We’ll both go. We can each hold one of her hands.’

Skye smiled. ‘Baby steps. Literally.’

The water was refreshingly cold, unfortunately Ivy hated it and let everyone know. Each time Clare and Skye lowered Ivy into the water, she lifted her knees up and screamed. After the third attempt, they gave up and walked back up the beach towards their things.

‘I thought she’d love it,’ Clare moaned, settling Ivy on her hip. ‘She loves bath time.’