Page 101 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Good luck,’ said Adam in a serious voice. ‘The hopes and dreams of the whole country are behind you now.’

‘Ivy!’ Clare beamed at her. ‘Come to Mummy.’

Adam, very slowly, released his grip on her. Ivy, grunting with effort, staggered in her direction.

‘Good girl!’ Clare encouraged her, trying to hold eye contact and video her at the same time. ‘Come on, keep going.’

Adam was right behind her, his hands hovering, ready to catch her if she fell, Clare was only a step away, holding her breath, willing Ivy to make it across the blanket. The three of them united, caught up in each other, a triptych of concentration.

Which was why nobody was aware of the dog until it was too late.

It all happened in a blur: kicked-up sand, the whip of a leather lead against Clare’s back, the thud of a furry yellow body sending Ivy crashing to the ground. Her little face registered shock then she let out an ear-piercing yell.

‘What the hell! Is she OK?’ Adam shouted as he threw himself onto the dog to catch it.

The animal, a young Labrador, was panting with excitement, its tail thumping against Adam’s body. Adam dodged it as it tried to lick his face.

‘She will be. It’s all right, darling.’ Clare checked her over; her tears were from shock and not pain by the look of it. She kissed her and brushed the sand from her little cheeks.

‘Sorry! Sorry!’ A man in a back-to-front baseball cap sauntered across, holding his hands up. ‘He just wants to play, he’s only a puppy.’

Adam stood up and handed the end of the lead back to the owner. ‘Tell that to the little girl he’s just knocked to the ground.’

‘All right, mate.’ The man ruffled the energetic Labrador’s head. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry. Come on, Storm.’

‘If you’re going to bring your dog to the beach, keep control of it.’ Adam was bristling with fury, his hands curled into fists. Clare had never seen him look so sexy. ‘That sort of incident can traumatise a child for life.’

‘Slightly dramatic.’ The man stared at him like he was crazy. ‘But point taken. Is the baby OK?’

He addressed this comment to Clare, who nodded.

‘She’d just taken her first steps,’ she explained. ‘So it was a big moment. Is Storm friendly?’

The man rolled his eyes. ‘Too friendly. Wants to meet everyone and join in every ball game on the beach. Which is great until he slips his lead and comes into contact with protective dads.’

‘It’s not the dads that I have the problem with, it’s contact with vulnerable children that’s out of order,’ Adam growled.

He looked so put out that Clare was finding it hard not to laugh. She reached out to the dog, who licked her hand.

‘Look at his soft tongue, Ivy,’ she murmured. ‘It tickles.’

Ivy flapped her own hand up and down in front of the dog’s face and Clare caught hold of it, not wanting her to scare the dog.

‘Gently, darling.’

The pink crumbs of Ivy’s wafer were too much for the dog to resist and she giggled and wriggled as the dog’s tongue licked the palm of her hand.

‘There you go, you see,’ the man said smugly. ‘Storm wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

He sauntered off and Adam shook his head in disgust. ‘Arsehole.’

Clare snorted with laughter. ‘Language.’

‘Sorry.’ He dropped down next to them, sitting cross-legged, and Ivy crawled off to investigate the sand again, none the worse for her ordeal.

‘You were brilliant,’ he said softly. ‘Cool as a cucumber.’

‘Thanks. I think it’s being a teacher,’ she mused. ‘I’ve seen every sort of accident, from vomit to broken bones. Sometimes it’s hard to stay calm, but it’s always best if you do. The kids pick up on our signals.’