Fun In The Sun
Can anxious mum Rosie stop worrying and get on with enjoying her first holiday as a divorcee?
agreed to share, while John and his friend Simon did the same.
“Great view,” Barbara said, shrugging out of her jacket and flinging open the doors to the balcony as soon as we reached our room. She delved into her case for a pair of flip-flops. “Shall we unpack now, or go for a wander? Check out the pool, catch up with the others, maybe see what the bar has to offer…”
A picture of my ex-husband Bill flickered across my mind, and the way holidays used to be. Him off somewhere with his golf clubs, and me left alone with a mound of paperbacks and a bottle of Coke, and then, after Shelley was born, with a mound of nappies and a bottle of formula milk.
I could hardly remember the last time I’d done anything just for me – anything that took me out of the day-to-day routine I had fallen into during the course of my less than idyllic marriage.
tiniest bit worried about encouraging John to spend time with another woman. Unlike Bill, I trusted him absolutely. I heard Barbara giggle, and then a big splash as he pushed her gently into the water.
Lying on my back on the bed upstairs, listening to the hum of the air conditioning, I tried Shelley’s number again. Nothing. She was staying with her father so, of course, I could ring his flat, but it might be Bill himself who answered, and I knew it would feel awkward, as though I was checking up, doubting his abilities as a father. If anything was wrong, he would surely let me know.
It crossed my mind, just briefly, that Shelley might be ignoring me on purpose, feeling aggrieved at my going away without her. And with John. I still wasn’t really sure how she felt about John.
She’d met him, of course, a couple of times, and they appeared to get on well enough, but I had been treading very carefully, not quite ready to admit that we were anything more than friends, a little afraid of what her reaction might be. She was only thirteen and her life had already been pulled apart by a divorce, no matter how amicably done.
You OK, Rosie?” John whispered when I returned. Everyone had decamped down to the beach and laid their towels out in a row. John had saved me a spot beside him and had bought me a cocktail with a little umbrella in it – bright yellow to match the parasol fluttering above our heads.
“I’m fine.” I wanted him to understand, yet how was I meant to tell him I shouldn’t have come? That I should have stayed at home with my daughter? That, much as I cared about him, she had to come first? “It’s just that…”
And then, right on cue, my mobile rang, from somewhere deep inside my beach bag. Throwing sun cream and water and tissues out all over the sand, I desperately rummaged for it, grabbing at it before it could stop.
But a glance at the screen told me the call was from a number I didn’t recognise at all. Oh, please, not an insurance salesman or a shopping survey – I had enough of those at home. “Hello?” “Hi, Mum.” “Shelley! Where are you?”
“At Dad’s, of course. Where else would I be? Don’t tell me you’ve been worrying?”
“No, of course not,” I lied. “Well, maybe just a little. So, what have you been up to without me?”
“Well, Dad took me ice-skating today, and yesterday we went swimming, and then to the cinema. He even made me some veggie paella for tea. Dad in the kitchen! Can you imagine it?” And as she laughed, I could feel all the pent-up stress draining out of my body and seeping away like magic into the sand beneath me. “But how about you and John? Having fun, I hope.”
“Oh, yes, it’s lovely here. But, Shelley, you’ve not been answering your phone.”
“Sorry about that, Mum, and don’t be angry with me, but…” She waited for a moment, as if expecting me to tell her off. “I accidentally dropped it in the deep end at the swimming pool. I know I should have left it in the locker with my clothes, but it’s completely wrecked.
“Anyway, Dad bought me this great new one today. Different network, which is why I’ve got a new number. I suppose I should have used Dad’s phone to call and say hello, but it’s only been two days…” “So, you’re OK?”
“Oh, Mum, stop being such an old worry-guts. You know I miss you, but Dad’s not a bad substitute! I want you to enjoy your holiday, not worry about me. You deserve to have some fun in your life… and some romance! But I’ll say bye for now. I don’t want to use up all my minutes on this new phone.”
John was looking at me curiously. “Well? Is she all right?”
“Having a whale of a time, by the sound of it. She’s growing up fast, John, and I have to learn to let go, don’t I? She’s perfectly able to get by without her mother breathing down her neck. And Bill might not have been a great husband, but he’s a good dad.”
“That’s the spirit. And did I get the seal of approval yet?”
“Yes, I think you did. She said that I – we – should have a bit of romance in our lives. Oh, John, is it too soon? I know we haven’t really talked about the future, but I feel like I’ve been treading on eggshells, so scared of putting a foot wrong and upsetting her.”
“Me too. I wasn’t even sure I should peck you on the cheek in front of her! But I’m certainly up for a bit of romance, if you are. Quite a lot of it, in fact!”
“There’s nothing I’d like more.” I reached for the glass he was holding out towards me and took a sip. “Mmm, lovely. Sex On The Beach! My favourite.”
John grinned. “Perhaps we could go for that swim now, if you fancy it?”
“I’d love to.”
I slipped out of my sandals and wiggled my toes in the warm sand and, without a single eggshell underfoot, we walked hand in hand towards the sea.
No Sister Of Mine by Vivien Brown. Published in paperback by One More Chapter, Harper Collins, £7.99.
When Eve brings a new face home for the holidays, her sister Sarah does something that will change their lives forever. Will they hold on to hate forever? A gripping read – perfect for fans of Adele Parks.
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