Page 71 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

So much for the perfect summer holiday she’d been dreaming of. All because she’d slipped on that bloody cake.

Adam’s face loomed up in her mind’s eye. Adam’s bloody gorgeous face. Saskia, I thought it was you.

Sorry to disappoint you, sweet cheeks, but it isn’t Saskia, and it never was.

She sighed in despair. She couldn’t change what had happened, but she did need to work out what came next. What she was going to do about the fact that the father of her child appeared to be living in Salcombe.

Ivy was starting to wake up. Having shared a room with her since she was born, Clare knew the signs: the fluttering eyelashes, clenched fists doing micro-movements, tiny lip-smacking noises. She’d worked her way out from underneath her sheet in the night and was at the top end, feet braced against the mesh sides, Winnie the Pooh tucked under her arm, damp curls at the base of her neck. A fierce love burned in Clare’s chest for Ivy. She was completely and utterly hers.

Except that she no longer had the excuse of not being able to track down Ivy’s father. It would be so easy to ring up the client from yesterday and ask for Adam’s number. ‘Tell him Saskia called …’

If she did – and she wasn’t yet sure if she could – everything would change. Her family would find out that she’d spun them a yarn about the ‘ex-boyfriend’ who’d abandoned her when he found out she was pregnant. And what if Adam wanted a role in Ivy’s life and Ivy loved him and then, when she was five, he changed his mind and decided he didn’t want to be a father after all and let her down, waltzing out of her life without a second glance? Like Mike had. What then?

Clare had to stay in control of this situation, she had to. Park her own emotions and do what was needed. There was no need to be hasty. Maybe now that she’d given him the brush-off at yesterday’s party, he might not bother pursuing her. For all she knew, he might be in Salcombe with a significant other, someone who wouldn’t be very impressed by her man hunting down another woman.

She racked her brains to remember what Skye had said to him, just before walloping him in the stomach. Clare sniggered under her breath. She’d seen a completely different side to Skye yesterday and she couldn’t help but be impressed.

There was a rustling sound from Ivy’s cot and, the next second, she was up on her feet, grinning at Clare and showing perfect little white teeth.

‘Hello, darling girl.’

‘Amamama,’ Ivy chuntered, bobbing up and down, gripping the edge of the travel cot.

Clare tried to scoop Ivy up with one arm. A searing pain shot through her arm, and she bit down on her lip.

‘I can’t pick you up, darling,’ she said, tears pricking at her eyes, ‘I’m so sorry.’

While Ivy contented herself with an armful of soft toys which Clare managed to pile into the cot for her, Clare sat back on the bed and cried. She couldn’t do this alone, she just couldn’t.

Chapter Twenty

Skye

Everywhere felt clean and fresh this morning after yesterday’s downpour. The sky was blue and the air crystal clear. A hopeful sort of day, thought Skye, powering towards the beach with her towel and water bottle.

Salcombe was mostly quiet. Dog walkers were out in force, runners pounded past her, adults of various ages strolled by pushing buggies containing little people in varying stages of sleep. As she passed them all by, exchanging a smile and the briefest hello, there was a shared feeling of smugness between them all that they still had this beautiful place all to themselves.

Skye’s to-do list had got an awful lot longer in the last twenty-four hours, but she wasn’t going to let it daunt her. She’d never thought about it before, but she was quite good at organising things, and people. When she’d arrived at the Hope Foundation, there’d been no filing system, no processes in place to keep track of the volunteers: who was arriving when and how long they were staying. Jesse was great at the big picture, but hopeless at detail. Skye had soon streamlined everything and created an induction programme. And it was because the charity project was in such good shape that she’d been able to leave at short notice, putting Terri, a capable girl from South Africa, in charge of keeping an eye on the volunteers.

Now, Skye was going to have to employ her organisational skills at Clemency House. Liz’s admission about the extent of her alcohol dependency had come as a shock. Skye had never been much of a drinker herself and didn’t know what it felt like to be incapable of resisting a drink. But she felt sure that the first step for someone getting to grips with any problem was a willingness to succeed. From what she’d seen last night, Liz seemed to be at that point and Skye was going to encourage her every step of the way. There would be loads of things they could do together that would help to distract her, and replace the buzz that alcohol had given her. Today was day one and Skye was confident that everything was going to feel so much brighter for Liz once they’d been to Thurlestone to sort out the mess from yesterday.

Clare however … Clare was another story. For her, it was also day one. But in her case, it was the start of a new reality and Skye had a feeling that Clare was going to struggle to accept it. Living with a one-armed, control-freak single mother whose chorus line was ‘I can manage’ was going to be a hoot and a half for the next few weeks.

It wasn’t only her fractured arm that had rattled Clare. There was the whole Adam situation to come to terms with. Adam, the man Skye had walloped so hard that her wrist was hurting this morning. Figuring out how best to help Clare was going to be a lot more complicated than helping Liz, that was for sure.

As the beach came into view, Skye felt a frisson of anticipation. For now, she was leaving all the drama of Clemency House behind. She slipped off her Birkenstocks at the edge of the beach and picked them up. The sand was damp and coarse under her feet as she headed towards the water’s edge where a group of people had already set up their mats and towels. Some were lying down, others seated, hands resting on knees as if they were meditating. Wandering between them was Marta. Skye felt a kick of pleasure at seeing her again. After the stress of yesterday, some time with a new friend, someone neutral who didn’t need anything from her, was exactly what she needed.

Yoga was one of those things Skye had always meant to try but never got around to. She dug into the pocket of her hoodie and looked at the card Marta had given her again. Sunrise Beach Yoga. No indication of the level. She’d just have to hope that Marta wasn’t one of those teachers who barked out instructions from the front of the class and assumed everyone knew what to do. Anything more complicated than a downward dog or a cat stretch and Skye would be all over the place.

Marta glided towards her. Her hair was loose, a cloud of brown curls ruffling in the breeze.

‘Great to see you!’ Marta’s smile was wide and genuine, and Skye felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

‘I thought it would be a good excuse to come and thank you for bringing Liz home last night. It was very kind of you.’

Marta waved her thanks away. ‘Happy to help. And you’ll stay to practise with us?’

‘Is that OK? I don’t need to book?’