Page 74 of Not Just for Christmas

Hey Will, me again with better news this time. I’ve got the last song for the album. Tell Karl it’s going to be awesome.

Chapter 31

The Wild Swim Girls had chosen a new gastropub forty-five minutes from the farm for their Christmas lunch. It was all exposed stone walls, light oak beams and large expanses of glass. I counted three real fires, with chunky logs ablaze, their mantelpieces buried beneath Christmas garlands entwined with fairy lights. Cinnamon velvet armchairs sat under charmingly rustic tables, each decorated with candle-filled hurricane lanterns and finished off with sprigs of fir and eucalyptus, and a Christmas cracker at every place setting.

‘So what’s new with you, Lucy?’ Sophie asked me, once we’d been shown to our table and handed menus.

It was Sophie who had started the group years ago, before wild swimming was even a thing. She’d had a career change from finance in London to managing a small guest house in Devon and wanted to make new friends. She posted a message in a local Facebook group and Wild Swim Girls took off. There was Dee, a retired teacher, Polly, who had her own dog-walking business, Tina, who cared full-time for her parents, and sisters Emma and Jen, who ran a mobile hair and beauty salon. And of course, Caroline and me.

‘Nothing much,’ I said, trying to sound casual. ‘I’ve been treading water since Jack died. Haven’t felt up to doing anything new.’ Or anything old for that matter.

‘I’ve missed seeing photos of Gus,’ said Polly. ‘And you, of course.’

‘We all have,’ said Emma and Jen together.

Their words wrapped around me like a blanket, and I felt a rush of gratitude for these women who had respected my decision to step away and were now welcoming me back without question. ‘Thank you. I’ve missed you all as well. Polly, how’s Jasper?’

Her little Jack Russell always accompanied her to the beach and sat regally on the sand waiting for her to return the water.

‘I lost him last year.’ She smiled bravely. ‘But he was eleven, a good age.’

‘Oh, that’s so sad.’ One question in, and I’d already managed to put my foot in it.

‘Are we ready to order drinks?’ Dee signalled to the waiter.

‘Water for me,’ said Jen. ‘My youngest has got a hospital appointment this afternoon.’

There was a ripple of concern from the others. Clearly this was an ongoing health issue, but I didn’t like to pry.

Once the drinks arrived, Dee lifted her glass. ‘It’s good to see you, Lucy. To be honest, we were ready to stage an intervention, wondering whether we should turn up at the farm and force you to come back to the group.’

‘But Caroline persuaded us not to.’ Tina reached across the table and gave my hand a squeeze. ‘Lucy will come back when she’s ready, she said.’

‘It took me some time to get you here,’ Caroline teased. ‘But I’m glad you made it.’

‘Me too,’ I said.

We clinked glasses, and for a moment I felt lighter than I had in months.

‘Does this mean we might see you on the beach soon?’ Sophie asked. ‘We’re all doing the Christmas Day dip, of course. This year it’s wetsuits and fairy wings.’

I shook my head apologetically. ‘Not this year. I don’t even own a wetsuit anymore, and I’m definitely steering clear of riptides and dangerous waves.’

‘I understand,’ Jen said quickly. ‘But there’ll be loads of us there, and the lifeguards too. Even if you only go in for a few seconds, you still get that rush.’

‘I’m not sure it would feel like a rush,’ I said, my stomach tightening. ‘It would feel more like terror.’

There was an awkward pause.

‘Sorry,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘That came out wrong. I’m really happy to be having lunch with you but wild swimming is not for me. Not now I’m a single parent.’

‘I’m a single parent,’ Emma argued. ‘Swimming with this lot keeps me sane.’

Emma’s ex lived a few miles away and they co-parented their teenage daughter amicably. It wasn’t the same. I bit my tongue, reminding myself that we were all different.

The waiter reappeared, notepad in hand, and the collective exhale around the table was almost audible. ‘Ready to order?’

‘Anything but turkey.’ Caroline shuddered. ‘I’ve been serving it up in the pub for three weeks straight. I’ll have the seabass, please.’