Page 52 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
“Hi. How did he get on at the vet’s?” Lisa asked.
“He’s doing fine. He aced his blood test and had his jab. He was very good — the needles didn’t bother him at all. Just the thermometer up his bum!”
Lisa laughed. “I don’t blame him. You are a good boy, aren’t you?” She caught the little dog and held him off as he tried to lick her cheek. Barney heaved a contented sigh and flopped down on the blanket, snuggled up against her, and promptly went to sleep.
“He’s exhausted. He was chasing a seagull.”
“Ah well, you’re getting on a bit, aren’t you, baby?” Lisa stroked a hand over the little dog’s head.
Cassie sat down on the blanket. “Liam was there,” she remarked lightly.
“Oh, yes. He and Luke take it in turns to cover the surgery on their mum’s day off.”
Cassie slanted her a wry glance but didn’t answer. It would have been nice to have been forewarned.
“So how did you get on with him?” Lisa enquired with an air of innocence that Cassie didn’t entirely trust.
“Liam? Fine.” Her tone was dismissive.
“Only I couldn’t help noticing how long you were chatting to him at Nanna’s funeral.”
“Oh, well, it’s been a long time. We had a lot of catching up to do. But don’t start getting carried away,” she added warningly. “We’re just friends.”
“Of course.” Lisa looked far from convinced, but she let the subject drop.
Little Amy came over and squeezed onto the blanket, picking up Kyra’s fluffy yellow dragon and dangling it for the baby to bat at with her tiny fists.
“My mummy’s getting married on Saturday,” she announced proudly. “And I’m going to be a bridesmaid. My nanna’s made me a dress. It’s pink.”
“That’s lovely.” Cassie smiled warmly at the child. “I bet you’re looking forward to it.”
“And after they’re married we’ll be able to have a baby of our own. And a kitten. I wanted a puppy, but Mummy said we couldn’t have one because it would have to be left on its own while she’s working in the café and Uncle Bill is looking after the cows and I’m at school. But kittens don’t mind being left on their own so that will be better. I’m going to call her Elsa.”
Lisa and Cassie shared a glance of amusement. Such a long speech — usually the child barely spoke a word, being as shy as her mother. Bill seemed to have been good for both of them.
Cassie tucked up her feet and rested her chin on her knees, watching all the activity on the beach. When she was a kid she had always felt a bit sorry for the holidaymakers from the caravan site and guest houses who could only come down here for a week or two.
Then they would have to go home again, to some dull grey town full of dull grey pavements and dull grey buildings. While she and her friends could stay here all year round, enjoying the beach, playing in the empty amusement arcade along the Esplanade or the mini golf, watching the sea in all its moods from tranquil and still to wild fury.
It had been a happy childhood, with lots of friends and plenty of grown-ups you knew well, who would sometimes treat you discreetly to an ice-cream or a packet of crisps.
Maybe she hadn’t recognised at the time how special that was, dazzled as she had been by her dreams of the big wide world beyond the bay. Maybe she had had to go away and come back again in order to appreciate it.
Chapter Ten
“This is such a lovely idea,” Cassie remarked as she and Lisa strolled down Cliff Road and along the Esplanade to the Carleton Hotel with Kyra in her buggy. “An evening wedding.”
“Mmm, with the sun setting in the background. So romantic,” Lisa agreed. “The photos will look fantastic.”
Everyone had been anxiously checking the weather reports for days. Surely after several weeks of glorious sunshine it wouldn’t choose to rain, today of all days? Of course, there was always the option of retreating to the ballroom if the weather turned, but who wouldn’t want to have their wedding ceremony out on the terrace, with its sweeping view of the bay?
But it had been another beautiful day, and promised to be a beautiful evening. The sun was westering across the sky, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. The sea was sparkling like diamonds and sapphires, lazy waves rippling like white lace along the edge of the beach.
There were still lots of families enjoying the remains of the day before it was time to go home for tea. Sandcastles of various sizes bore witness to the young builders’ hard labour, games of cricket and frisbee were winding down — only the dogs were still full of energy, chasing their balls and scaring up the strutting seagulls.
A sign in the window of the CupCake Café announced that it was closed for the day. Cassie laughed as they passed. “I wonder how Debbie’s feeling?”
“Like she’s been wired up to the mains,” Lisa responded with a chuckle.
