Page 105 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

Skye noticed the hesitation on Liz’s face and jumped in quickly. ‘That’s very kind, but no thank you. Why don’t you go and put your feet up for an hour, perhaps pour one for yourself.’

The old lady nodded, and they said goodbye.

Skye looked back as Liz started up the van and turned out of the driveway. Mrs Barton stood to the side of the doorway waving. Skye imagined that that was her side, that Ken had always stood on the other, the two of them having waved off their guests a thousand times over the years.

As they headed back towards the lock-up, Skye gave a sigh. ‘That was sad, but so happy too.’

‘I was thinking the same,’ Liz agreed. ‘Better to have loved and lost and so on. And thanks for stepping in about the sherry, darling, I was tempted. It’s going to be a long time before I stop automatically reaching for a glass of something to relax, or relieve stress, or to celebrate. But alcohol wasn’t doing me any good, I see that now. I feel so much better for not drinking; I’m sleeping better, I’ve got more energy and I’m getting my zest for life back.’

‘I think you’re doing brilliantly. You ought to come to yoga with me,’ Skye suggested. She was sure Liz would love it. ‘You’d learn to meditate, and Marta says that’s a good way of coping with stress.’

Liz didn’t look convinced. ‘I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I’ll just have to distract myself with elderflower pressé. And dates with Patrick Delmarge.’

Skye laughed. ‘That works too.’

‘It’s good to hear you laugh.’ Liz smiled at her. ‘You’ve come out of your shell since being here. I know you and Clare got off to a shaky start, but you seem a lot closer now.’

‘We are.’ Skye looked out of the open window, gazing at the loveliness of her surroundings: the pastel-painted houses, the narrow streets, the glimpses of the sparkling sea over rooftops and through the trees. She’d left Uganda in June in order to give herself the time and space to think about her future. To decide whether the life Jesse was offering was really what she wanted. Getting to spend six weeks in Salcombe with Clare, Ivy and Liz was an added bonus which she couldn’t have foreseen. And now that she had them back in her life, she wasn’t ready to let them go. Ironically, it had been her family who’d made her want to escape her home, but it was also her family who’d helped her to make the next big decision.

She turned to her godmother. ‘Liz, I love it here. I mean, I really love it. Salcombe, my job, you three. I’m having the best summer.’

‘Oh darling!’ Liz reached for her hand across the gearstick. ‘That’s fantastic to hear. Maybe we can make this a regular thing? I’m sure Clare and Ivy will be back next summer. Although …’ She paused and chewed her lip.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Yet. Speaking to Patrick has given me food for thought, that’s all. But Salcombe is Clare’s second home, I can’t imagine a time when she won’t want to come. And you must too.’

Skye beamed. Whether it was intended or not, she’d always felt like the outsider. ‘I’d like that. I’d like being part of the traditions. Like cream teas, and fish and chips on the first night.’

‘We usually do breakfast at the Winking Prawn and lunch at the Crab Shed too. And Jen always liked a beach barbecue and beers.’ Liz pulled a face. ‘Maybe not the beers this time. But let’s try to fit the rest in before you go back to Africa.’

‘I’m not going back,’ Skye blurted out. ‘I’ve thought and thought about it and it’s not what I want.’

Liz slowed down as the car in front put its brakes on. ‘Then lucky us!’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m really pleased for you if it’s what you want.’

‘It is what I want. When I came back earlier in the summer I didn’t expect to feel like I fit in in this family. But I do. And I owe that to you. If you hadn’t asked me to work for you, none of this would have happened.’

Skye let out a breath, relieved to have finally said it out loud. It had been a game of tug of war for her heart: the friends she’d made, the beauty of Kampala, the year-round warmth, not to mention how purposeful her life had been during the five years she’d spent there. And love, of course, she’d found love in Uganda. But she knew now without a doubt that that life, that love, was over. She’d found a new purpose here, among her own family; there were adventures she wanted to have, she wanted to put down roots, perhaps love again …

‘You’ve been such a help to me,’ Liz said. ‘I’m glad I’ve been a help to you in some way too. Is that why you were trying to get hold of your boss, to resign?’

‘Exactly.’ Jesse wasn’t going to take this well. They hadn’t managed to speak to each other for a couple of weeks now and Skye was getting edgy. The conversation needed to happen as soon as possible. ‘I know you originally said six weeks,’ Skye ventured, ‘but do you think I could work for you a little longer?’

Liz sighed. ‘You can stay with me as long as you like. But as for working for me …’ She gave Skye a look of apology. ‘I’m not sure I want to run a catering company anymore, so there may not be a job for you.’

‘But you love cooking.’ Skye gave her a look of surprise.

‘I love cooking in my own house. Doing afternoon tea for the Delmarges was the perfect job, it didn’t feel like work. Today, working in Mrs Barton’s kitchen was a chore. The oven didn’t get hot enough, the fridge wasn’t cold enough and the dishwasher was one of those half-sized ones designed for fairy folk.’

Skye smiled. ‘I see what you mean. OK, I’ll work for as long as you need me and then I’ll have a rethink.’

‘Deal. I’d been considering retirement earlier in the summer,’ Liz admitted sheepishly. ‘But I’ve got my mojo back now, so that’s not going to happen. I’ve got a few ideas, and once I’ve paid your dad what we owe him, I’ll be making some decisions of my own. Why aren’t we moving, I wonder?’

Salcombe streets were always busy, but the queue of traffic they were in appeared to be completely stationary, and motorists were starting to toot their horns.

Liz turned the engine off. ‘Looks like we aren’t going anywhere for the time being.’

Skye poked her head out of the window. ‘I can hear raised voices. Perhaps there’s been an accident?’