Page 39 of The Summer That Changed Us

‘I know,’ she murmured, snuggling into his chest.

But it was different for him; no one close to him had been affected. Dealing with it wasn’t as straightforward as it sounded.

‘I love you,’ he continued. ‘I want you to grow old with me. You’re the most precious thing in my world and your babies will be beautiful.’

Babies. She felt a tremor of fear. She still wasn’t entirely sure she wanted one, let alone more than one. This was the moment when she should have spoken up, expressed doubt, told him not to get carried away. But he looked so happy that she couldn’t bring herself to spoil the moment.

So, she simply kissed him and said. ‘Our babies will be beautiful.’

And wished she’d never brought the subject up in the first place.

The baby plan moved quickly after that. If Robyn was honest with herself, she was swept along with the excitement, the newness of it all. Finn’s happiness became her own. Finn researched how to increase the chance of conception, which involved him wearing loose boxer shorts and both of them cutting down on alcohol while Robyn booked herself into the doctors to get the ball rolling for the BRCA gene testing. She tried not to think too much about the tests; instead, she focused on their future.

Now in the bath, they’d sip tea and compile lists: of baby names (Amelie, Edie, Tilda for a girl and Billy, Atticus or Rex for a boy); equipment they’d need to buy, who would be godparents; places they wanted to take Baby McGill (Lapland to see Santa, the puffins on Coquet Island, London to see the Queen), new family traditions they’d form (birthday cakes, building snowmen, and sandcastle competitions … ).

Six weeks later when Alice, the post lady, pushed a sheaf of mail through their letter box, Robyn had been on her own in the cottage. She sifted through the letters until she found the one she’d been dreading. Cream-coloured with one of those clear windows. She’d already come to know the hospital stationery well. Her fingers shook as she tore it open.

She scanned the page, holding her breath until she found it: You have tested positive for the BRCA1 mutation.

The words blurred into a smudge as her eyes welled with tears. She’d allowed herself to hope that the history of cancer in her family was nothing more than bad luck, that lightning couldn’t possibly strike a third time, but the letter confirmed it. She knew the statistics off by heart: the risk of developing breast cancer was over seventy-three per cent and ovarian cancer sixty-three per cent.

She sank down onto the sofa and wrapped her arms around herself, taking it all in. Her mind already skipping ahead to what this would mean for her and Finn, remembering all the times her mother had tried to comfort her.

Just because I’m not there, doesn’t mean I love you any less.

When I’m gone, I want you to be brave.

You’re my mark on the world, being your mum is the best thing I could be.

I’ll always be there to watch over you at night, just look up and find the twinkliest star and it will be me, blowing you a goodnight kiss.

Robyn had wanted to scream and yell that it wasn’t enough.

A single sheet of paper. That was all. And yet its message had tipped her entire world on its head. There would be decisions to make, options to consider, appointments to attend … her priority would have to switch from creating a new life to preserving her own. She loosened her grip on the page, letting it twist to the floor, then curled up on the sofa and pulled a blanket up over her head to shut out the world for a while.

When Finn came home from work hours later, he found her still there in the dark. He switched on a lamp, discovered the letter and scanned through it. And then, scooping her up in his arms, they’d both cried for each other, for Robyn’s mum who’d never been offered the BRCA testing which might have saved her life and even for the baby they both instinctively knew they would never have. There was no way.

The next few months were awash with appointments, consultations and counselling. Robyn was overwhelmed with decisions but was reassured at every turn by the team at the hospital. And beside her every step of the way, surrounding her in love, squeezing her hand and telling her how brave she was, was Finn.

She felt anything but brave. Those who had to deal with cancer were the brave ones, as far as she was concerned. All she was doing was keeping one step ahead of it. She opted to play it safe and scheduled in her surgeries: a double mastectomy and oophorectomy.

The last operation had been a year ago. Neither of them mentioned Lapland or puffins, birthday cakes or baby names. Gradually beer had crept its way back into the fridge and Finn took a bath on his own. From the outside, Robyn’s body didn’t look that different. Fully clothed, you couldn’t tell at all; a little plumper because of the medication she’d been on, but that would settle in time. And nobody else would ever know she’d had an early menopause. Finn and the hospital staff were the only people who’d seen her reconstructed breasts, the scars, small plateaus where nipples used to be.

But she wasn’t the same person, and neither was Finn.

They could have been parents by now. There might have been a little McGill in Admiral Cottage. A family of three. But it was still just the two of them, and Robyn – although she’d never admit it to another soul – was secretly quite glad about that.

Robyn’s tea had gone cold and she set down her mug. Her eyes alighted on the sea glass that she’d arranged on the wooden floor in a spiral earlier and her mind drifted back to Grace and Katie.

They had a WhatsApp group now called The Sea Glass Sisterhood. Grace had set it up and had sent a message to apologise for her outburst on the beach after Myles’s ex-wife had phoned her.

Poor Grace. Poor Katie, too.

Robyn had been a little envious of them both to begin with – not that being widowed was anything to be jealous of, but Robyn would hazard a guess that Grace didn’t buy her knickers at Asda. And Katie, well Katie always looked so elegant and serene and sorted. Now she knew them a bit better she could see that their lives weren’t perfect either. She scooped the sea glass up and put it in an empty mason jar on her bookshelf. People were a bit like the shingle beach, she thought; it looked perfectly ordinary on the surface, but take the time to dig a little deeper and you discovered the sea glass: unique in every way, with histories and stories you couldn’t even begin to guess.

She checked the WhatsApp group again for any news. Nothing. They’d agreed to get together immediately if Katie received another letter. But what if Katie had had a change of heart and decided not to confide in them again and was dealing with it alone? And what if Grace was more upset about Julia’s accusation than she’d let on?

She should find out, check up on them both, she decided. Starting right now.