Page 1 of One More Time

PART I

CHAPTER

1

17 September – modern day

Holding her future in trembling hands, Grace Burrows took one last tear-blurred look at the results of her recent blood test. Her doctor had been gentle when delivering the shocking news, but that hadn’t softened the blow. After thirty-odd years spent nursing people through sickness, she understood surviving this would take a miracle, and her long life had been fairly short on those. But she still believed in the power of prayer – unanswered or not – and the potency of positive thinking. That’s what she needed, now more than ever.

Breathing in deeply, she folded up the document and tucked it into her safe spot – beneath her mattress. There were too many prying eyes in her house to risk such information being seen. Flattening the quilt and then straightening her weary bones, she rubbed her lower back. Arthritis was making her left hip achingly tender, and her knees didn’t have much suspension left. But even though her body was failing, getting older was still a wonderful gift, not least because it meant more time with her daughter and beloved grandchildren.

Taking unhurried steps toward the golden shafts of sunlight stretching across the oak floorboards, she pondered her next move. She had to tell her loved ones the news, but she didn’t know quite how to put it into words. Besides, the timing was off – it would be selfish of her to break it to them now.

She drew a slow, steady breath, then sighed it away. After a day filled with a steady stream of out-of-town visitors, and with only an hour until her seventieth birthday celebrations began, she had sought to steal a few moments to herself before once again putting on a brave face.

Gone were the days where she yearned for companionship and conversation, although it had been lovely catching up with people she hadn’t seen in years. With her deteriorating health, she was well aware it could be the last time, and it made every moment spent with her family and friends bittersweet. Tonight was going to be emotional. She just hoped she made it through without breaking down.

She parted the blackout curtains, passed through the French doors, then raised a hand to shield her eyes. Resting against the wrought-iron railings of her top-floor balcony, she blinked into the stunning view. The setting sun was stealing the warmth of the glorious spring day, and the cool sea breeze stirred the hem of her crimson cocktail dress and brushed the few wisps of silver hair she’d left loose from her chignon against her cheeks. Even after calling Waterside Estate home for the past forty years, she’d never tired of the view. How could she, when the only thing separating her from the softly rolling hills of Moonflower Acres was the soothing lap of the turquoise ocean upon the white-sand shores of Sapphire Bay? Her hometown was heaven on earth.

Her thoughts drifted back. She’d quite often stood here, wondering what her life would’ve been like if she’d stayed at Moonflower Acres, with her first and – dare she say it? – only true love. She was fairly certain she wouldn’t have ever been able to move past the hurt, after he’d broken her heart so categorically. She’d forgiven him for deserting her and their baby girl, but she’d never forgotten the pain of Charlie Wilson’s hardheartedness.

As she gazed out at the myriad boats bobbing in the marina, her late husband’s face came to mind. She smiled softly as she reflexively twisted her wedding band. She adored anything to do with the ocean, but Rodger Burrows had sadly not shared her passion, his predisposition to seasickness making it all too much. ‘Opposites attract’ had been the embodiment of their relationship, and the saying had proved to be both a blessing and a curse. They’d had so many contradictions – their taste in music, religious beliefs, even the way they each liked their steak cooked, and yet she’d loved him so. How could she not? Right from the start, when she’d been a broken, guarded young woman, he’d been gentle with her, simply content in her company, and had quickly proven to be a devoted stepfather. And in all their years together, he had never raised his voice to her, not even once. If only they’d been able to have children, maybe there would have been something to fill the many silences that had hung between them, especially in the later years.

Shifting her gaze closer to home, she admired the gardens she meticulously tended. What had been a row of tiny plants and buried seedlings all those years ago was now a flourishing display of tropical trees and shrubs, bursting with differing shades of blooms, and her lemon, orange and limes trees were abundant with fruit. It was a haven for the birds, butterflies and bees she liked to capture in photos. As with anything in life, consistent love and attention could yield great things.

Gardening had always been one of her three greatest passions in life, along with dancing and baking. She pondered how much longer she had to enjoy such simple pleasures. A month? A year? Either way, she was going to fight until her very last breath. She still had lots of life to live.

Making her way back inside, she eased onto the seat at her mahogany duchess. Not one for lots of make-up, she applied some lipstick and blush, then brought her fingertips to the crinkles framing the corners of her sea-green eyes. Laugh lines, her darling daughter Hope preferred to call them. Grace liked to agree, even though she knew that though she’d laughed a lot throughout her seventy years, some of those lines were due to disappointments and heartbreak.

A knock at the door had her twisting to face it. ‘Yes?’

‘It’s just me, Mum. Can I come in?’ Hope’s singsong voice carried through it.

‘Yes, love, of course you can.’

Grace stood as the door swung open and Hope stepped in, her long cobalt dress whooshing around her ankles and her silky dark hair swishing around her shoulders. ‘So, what do you think?’ she asked, spinning, her arms wide and her blue eyes sparkling.

‘Oh my, you look …’ Hope was, and had always been, the spitting image of her father. As emotions overcame her, Grace’s hand came to her mouth, and she blinked faster. ‘… absolutely beautiful.’

‘Aw, thanks Mum.’ Her eyes widening, Hope closed the distance, and took Grace’s hands in hers. ‘Like mother, like daughter.’ She stepped back, her fingers lacing with Grace’s at an arm’s length. ‘You seriously never age, Mum. You don’t look a year older than fifty.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that, but thank you for being so nice, my darling.’ She patted Hope’s hand before letting it go.

‘I’m not just being nice, Mum, it’s the hand-on-heart truth. You’ve got an ageless elegance about you.’ Hope rested down on the edge of the bed, and watched as Grace slipped in her sapphire earrings. ‘Dad asked me to give you this.’ She held out a goldwrapped parcel adorned with a blue ribbon.

A little taken aback, Grace tipped her head to the side as she cautiously took it. ‘Why didn’t he just give it to me tonight?’ A thought struck her – Charlie’s dependability had not been great over the years. ‘He is still coming, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, he is.’ Hope nodded enthusiastically. ‘I don’t think he’d be game not to, knowing how much Sharni and Rose are looking forward to dancing with their grandpa.’

Grace chuckled – they unquestionably were a bloodline of strong-minded women, and she was proud of it. ‘Ha, yes, I suppose, with three generations of us around to lecture him at the moment, your father would most certainly be in big trouble if he didn’t show up.’

‘You got that right.’ Hope smirked playfully. ‘To be honest, though, tonight has been the topic of conversation with him ever since we arrived last week.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Anyone would think the man’s still madly in love with you,’ she added, giving her mother a knowing look.

‘Mm-hmm,’ Grace replied, brows wrinkling. There was truth behind Hope’s words, and an awareness in her daughter’s gaze, all of which Grace had learnt to turn a blind eye to over the years. Charlie had had his chances – too many chances – all those years ago. And he’d blown them, good and proper.

‘Right, well, on that tongue-tied note …’ Hope pointed to the present, still clutched in Grace’s hands. ‘I’m not sure what it is, exactly, but Dad was hoping you might like to wear it to the party.’

‘Oh, okay.’ After sitting down beside her one and only child, Grace carefully peeled the elaborate wrapping paper back, revealing a little velvet box. ‘He’s bought me jewellery?’