Page 80 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Look.’ He rubbed a hand through his hair and chewed his bottom lip distractedly. ‘Sorry to come by unannounced, but since seeing you from the ferry, and then bumping into you yesterday, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. So I thought I’d ask Ele for the address of the caterers and take it from there. And here I am.’

‘And here you are,’ Clare swallowed.

His voice was exactly as she remembered it. Not that that should have come as a surprise, but it was incredible how simply talking to him brought the memories of that night into clear focus.

‘I don’t want to give you the impression that I meet someone once and get obsessed with them and try to track them down, but …’ He jingled his keys. ‘Do you mind if I sit down for a minute?’

‘Sure.’ She waved him towards the other chair to avoid him coming any closer and then cradled her sling with her good hand, an automatic gesture of protection at the approach of another person.

‘Looks painful,’ he said, indicating her arm with a nod of his head.

‘It is. Terrible. The worst pain I’ve ever had, even worse than …’ She brought herself up short before saying childbirth. ‘I can’t even think of anything. That’s how bad.’

‘What did you actually do?’ he asked. She gave him such a sharp look that he recoiled. ‘To your arm, I mean, after you slipped on my sister’s birthday cake?’

‘Angel is your sister?’ Clare gasped. Her mind instantly leapt to Auntie Angel before reminding herself that they were a long way from going down that road, if they ever did at all.

‘My little sister. That’s why I’m down in Salcombe, I didn’t want her not to have any family with her this year. I’m staying for the summer while my mum is away in Australia visiting her best friend. And my dad … isn’t here either.’

He cares about his family, a little voice said, in her head, good sign. She brushed it away. Her dad had been a family man until one day he wasn’t. Not her family, at least.

‘Fractured in two places,’ she said. ‘Not a day I ever wish to revisit.’

Adam winced. ‘That sucks.’

‘Yep, so much for my plans for swimming and lazing on the beach.’

‘Sorry to hear that.’

She felt herself growing hot under the weight of his gaze. She checked her strapless dress hadn’t slipped down under one boob and surreptitiously wiped a fingertip below each eye to remove any traces of yesterday’s mascara. ‘What?’

He laughed softly, shaking his head. ‘All this time, I’ve wondered if I’d see you again and you turn up at my sister’s birthday party.’

‘So, you’d thought about me?’ She’d thought about him too. A lot. But it had never once occurred to her that he might have been doing the same.

‘That sounds a bit creepy.’ He gave her a crooked smile. ‘But, yes, I guess I have. It felt like that night ended too soon.’

Clare felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘I thought it went on quite a long time.’

‘I wasn’t referring to …’ His face flushed beneath his tan. ‘I mean that I was disappointed when you left. You got a phone call about your mum. I was worried about you. And I kept thinking about you, wondering if everything was all right with her.’

Clare looked down at her lap. ‘Mum was in a car crash that night. She didn’t survive.’

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry. That must have been horrendous for you.’ Adam shook his head, his eyes full of sympathy.

‘Another day I’d rather not revisit,’ she said wryly.

‘Not looking good for me, is it? Two meetings, two bad endings.’ He swore under his breath. ‘Sorry, that sounded flippant, and it wasn’t meant to be. I guess this is just …’

‘Weird?’

His eyes met hers and for a moment he said nothing. ‘I’ve been thinking back to that night, remembering how much I enjoyed meeting you, wishing I’d done things differently, at least taken your number, while for you … it ended with you losing a loved one. I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known. I wish I could have been there for you.’

A wave of emotion surged through her. Clare had never felt as alone as she had during the long hours of that traumatic night. Even Liz, who she’d known all her life, couldn’t fill the void. She remembered feeling as heavy as lead and yet as light as air all at the same time. Weighed down with grief, but barely tethered to reality, as if any second she could be lifted from the ground and carried away like a seed from a dandelion clock.

‘Hey?’

She felt his fingertip briefly touch her leg, feather-light and non-threatening. Just long enough to jolt her back to the moment.