Page 19 of Summer in Greece

Outside the shop, she took some deep breaths and walked a little way down the high street. The air was crisp, cold, and the town still busy with bargain hunters in the January sales. As the late-afternoon light faded, she saw herself in the shop windows, alone.

What she really needed was a friend to talk to, or just to be silent with. Shelly wished there was someone who could sit with her while she opened the bag. Her emotions were so exhausting that she felt weak most of the time. Looking around, she realised she’d entered the pedestrian area and faced Gerrard’s Cake Shop. Suddenly starving, she bought herself a sausage roll and a cola and sat on a bench that wrapped around a tree trunk.

Fortified after the food and drink, she pulled the jeweller’s bag from her tote. What could it be? She eased the staples open and pulled out a box in the same colour scheme. With butterflies in her tummy, she slid it open, then gasped at the simple beauty of a beautiful, silver, teardrop-shaped bangle. ‘Oh Mum . . .’ she whispered and looked up, in her mind’s eye seeing her mother in her Burberry raincoat, with her furled umbrella and shiny old leather satchel bag slung across her body. ‘It’s beautiful.’ Then she saw the writing engraved inside.

TO THE MOON AND BACK, MY DARLING. 25.12.2000

How often had her mother asked: How much do I love you? Shelly slipped the bracelet on and whispered, ‘To the moon and back.’ Overwhelmed, her tears came fast and free. It was such a relief to be able to cry without the fear of her father hearing. Lost to grief, she felt herself cleansed in some way, then something cold and wet touched her arm and made her jump.

Her eyes flew open and she found herself staring into the big face of an old Golden Retriever. Its big brown eyes peered with sympathy. The dog dropped its head into her lap and continued to gaze up.

She scratched behind its ear. ‘Sorry, old girl, I’m a bit upset.’

The Retriever cocked its head slightly and made an odd mewling sound.

‘Hey, are you all right? Here, take this,’ a male voice said as a hand came towards her with a McDonald’s napkin.

‘Thanks.’ She glanced up and saw he was a little older than her, with sandy hair and blue-grey eyes. ‘Thanks,’ she said again, feeling snotty, and imagining the state of her mascara.

‘Sorry about my dog, she’s a sucker for tears. What’s up?’ he asked. ‘Can I help?’

‘Nobody can help. Please, I’d just like to be by myself.’

‘Ah, sorry, I do understand – but it’s just that I’m the opposite. I really need to talk to somebody.’

‘Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not the person to unburden yourself onto.’ She found herself stroking the dog. The comforting weight of its head, that intense sympathetic stare, and its silence, was exactly what she needed at that moment. ‘Your dog’s lovely. What’s its name?’

He sighed. ‘It’s my dog that’s the problem. I’ve a terrible decision to make and it’s just too difficult.’

‘Really, I’m the last person to help you!’ She would have walked, right then, if it hadn’t been for the dog’s head still in her lap. It seemed so sad and lonely that she hadn’t the heart to shove it away. After peering into its eyes again, she relented. ‘I give in. What’s the matter then?’

‘She’s sick,’ he said gently. ‘Terminally ill. Should I take her to the vet and . . . you know, or let her hang on to the end? It would be kinder to take her to the vet, but I don’t want to let her go. Everyone says it’s up to me, but I can’t sleep for the worry. It’s the most terrible decision.’

‘You’re serious? You mean this lovely old dog?’

He nodded.

‘No, poor thing, that’s too awful.’

He nodded again. ‘Her name’s Pat. Pat the dog, get it? I can’t decide, I can’t even sleep for fretting about it.’

They remained silent for a while, then Shelly spoke. ‘You must spend a lot of time with her.’

‘In the week I do. I work from home building travel websites, so I’m always around.’ He glanced into her face, looking for approval, perhaps, caring what she thought. ‘But at the weekends, I’m a lifeguard at the sports centre. I hate to leave her, but I’ll lose my job if I don’t go in, and the websites don’t pay that well while I’m building a name for myself.’

‘That’s where I’ve seen you. At the baths. I used to go every Saturday afternoon, but I haven’t been since Christmas,’ she said, taking another glance at his face and decided he was even better looking close up.

He frowned. ‘Then I must have seen you there.’ Again, he studied her face. ‘But I don’t recognise you.’

‘I wear a yellow swim cap and goggles.’

‘Ah, that’s you?’ He grinned. ‘You’re good, fast, strong, but you need to work on your turns.’

‘You’ve been watching me? That’s creepy.’

‘Not creepy at all. It’s my job to watch the swimmers. That’s what I’m paid for.’

CHAPTER 8