Page 65 of The Summer That Changed Us

Katie held her breath. ‘Did you find anything on me?’

‘Nothing. Amazingly.’ Barney hitched his shoulders up. ‘There’s not even a Facebook page for the shop.’

Tension uncoiled in her stomach. ‘Thank goodness.’

‘Hey, don’t worry,’ he said, as if sensing her unease. ‘I’m not trying to catch anyone out.’

Katie forced herself to smile. ‘Sorry, I’m naturally suspicious.’

Barney placed a hand on her arm reassuringly. ‘All I want to do is draw attention to the awards and to generate positive publicity for the shop.’

Katie nodded slowly, absorbing what he was saying. She wanted to make changes to the business, expand their customer base and maybe offer a wider range of underwear. A feature about Auntie Small’s would help enormously with that.

‘You’d be able to launch Small Things Matter in the article,’ Amber chimed in.

‘Good idea,’ Katie smiled, thinking back to herself at that age. She’d been quite feisty at fourteen; not afraid to stand up for what she believed in. She’d loved nothing more than a good debate on any topic. And now look at me, she thought in frustration: so worried about what people thought of her that she’d been careful not to leave a digital footprint.

Was it time for a rethink? Maybe, she thought, her heart fluttering. And Barney was handing her the perfect opportunity to do it.

‘Thank you, Barney,’ Katie said, giving him a determined smile. ‘That would be great.’

Chapter Twenty-Four

Thirty miles from Merle Bay in a community health centre on the outskirts of Morpeth, the group leader, whose name Robyn had already forgotten, handed her a marker pen and asked her to write her name on a sticker and put it on her chest.

‘And then help yourself to coffee and tea, Robyn,’ said the woman. She wore a long sheath dress and Doc Marten boots and had friendly green eyes which twinkled beneath a blunt fringe and hands which circled constantly as if she was conducting an invisible orchestra. ‘And do try a shortbread finger, I made them myself.’

Robyn quickly scribbled her name and stuck the label onto her top, keen to get away and disappear into the crowd. She’d been given a leaflet for this Previvors Support Group last year. At the time she’d been adamant that group support wasn’t for her. But since meeting Katie and Grace, she’d found herself opening up a bit more. So, she’d emailed the organiser and allowed herself to be talked into coming along to the next session. And here she was.

To Robyn’s relief, the group leader spotted another newcomer at the door and fluttered away to deal with her, giving Robyn a quiet moment to get acclimatised to her surroundings.

She’d imagined somewhere with squeaky floors and smelling of disinfectant but had been pleasantly surprised.

This room was kitted out as a library: bookshelves lined one wall while an assortment of armchairs and low tables with piles of magazines and reading lamps gave the room a homely feel. The only heart-sinking thing was that the chairs for this afternoon’s meeting were arranged in a large semi-circle at one end of the room. No chance of squirrelling herself away at the back as she’d hoped.

‘You look like you wish the ground would swallow you up.’ Robyn turned and found herself looking into another woman’s eyes. ‘In her defence, Sadie is probably the most nervous person here. I’m Tess, by the way.’

Sadie – that was the group leader’s name. Robyn smiled and introduced herself.

‘I’m back at work now, but I try and come every month,’ said Tess, steering her to a couple of vacant chairs. ‘Between work, hospital appointments, kids, life … you know how it is.’ She rolled her eyes and Robyn nodded in sympathy.

‘And what do you actually do here?’ Robyn asked. She had visions of an Alcoholics Anonymous-style meeting and everyone being invited to share their story with the group. My name’s Robyn and I’m a previvor.

‘Sadie starts off with an introduction, welcomes any new members and tells us what’s coming up.’

Robyn panicked. ‘Do we all have to say something?’

Tess laughed. ‘No, although some people can’t help themselves.’

She let out a breath. ‘Thank goodness.’

‘Don’t worry, I was nervous too, my first time.’

‘I’m not great at talking about my feelings and group therapy is my worst nightmare.’ Robyn’s throat thickened; saying the words aloud to a stranger made it so much more real. To her dismay, she felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘But I know I need help.’

‘Then you’re in the right place.’ Tess smiled kindly as if to say well done and handed her a tissue. ‘After the intros we usually have a speaker of some sort. Today’s talk is about self-care.’

Sadie clapped her hands and brought the room to attention.