Page 143 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Shit the bed! All right!’ Mike smacked on his hazard lights, tooted his horn to warn everyone and swung the car out across the narrow lane.

More horns blared at him as he see-sawed backwards and forwards across the road, shunting first the front and then the back bumpers into the gnarly hedges, until finally the car was facing the other direction. The elegant woman in the car behind mouthed ‘arsehole’ as she nudged her car past them.

Clare looked at her dad. Sweat was pouring off him. ‘Thanks.’

He grinned at her. ‘You’re welcome. Most excitement I’ve had in ages.’

They were behind Adam’s car, the traffic was slow, but moving. Mike flashed his lights and edged up to Adam’s car. Adam did a double take in his rear-view mirror. Then another head appeared.

‘There’s someone sitting beside him.’

‘Sister?’ Mike hazarded a guess.

‘Too old.’ Her heart was racing now and her voice shaky with nerves. What was going through Adam’s mind right now? He’d have seen her dad’s idiotic manoeuvre.

Suddenly, Adam’s car veered off the road into a farm track. Mike followed suit.

‘Go get your man then,’ he said, nodding his head towards Adam’s car as Adam himself leapt from the driver’s side.

Clare climbed out of the car, her legs shaking, and found herself looking at Adam.

‘Clare?’ Adam was frowning, his arms extended. ‘Is everything all right? You look scared to death.’

‘I am,’ she admitted. Her mouth had gone completely dry, she’d give anything for a sip of water right now. ‘I’m petrified.’

The passenger door of Adam’s car opened and a woman wearing a floral summer dress got out. Fine hair, blonde with silvery streaks, one pair of glasses on her face and sunglasses on the top of her head. She had a hand pressed to her tummy as she walked over to them.

‘Er …’ Adam scrubbed a hand through his hair. ‘Mum, this is Clare. Clare, meet my mum, Beatrice.’

‘Lovely to meet you,’ said Clare, extending her hand formally. She looked at Adam nervously. Did his mother know about her? About Ivy?

‘Nanna Bea,’ said Beatrice, her plump cheeks dimpling as she smiled. ‘That’s what I’d like to be called, if you approve.’

‘Mum knows,’ said Adam. ‘Everything.’

‘Oh,’ Clare gasped, looking from her to Adam. ‘Oh, right.’

‘No matter,’ said Beatrice, waving a hand. ‘Just a thought. I can be plain old Gran if you prefer.’

‘No, no, I love it,’ Clare said, with a surprised laugh. ‘Really love it. Excuse me.’

She bowed her head as from nowhere tears began to run down her face. Mike was out of the car in a flash and put his arm around his daughter.

‘Everything OK here?’ he said gruffly.

‘Nanna Bea,’ said Beatrice, forcing Mike to shake her hand. ‘And you must be Grandpa?’

‘Grandad,’ he corrected her. ‘Grandad Mike.’

Clare let out a sob; this was so surreal. Was it too much to hope that things might be working out?

‘Adam,’ said Adam, following his mother’s lead and offering Mike his hand. ‘Ivy’s father.’

‘Ah,’ said Mike knowingly, looking him up and down.

Clare felt like pinching herself. Ivy’s parents and grandparents meeting in a rutted muddy track in a Devon lane, the air whiffy with engine fumes. She thought of her dad’s rom-com film analogy and almost laughed.

‘Where were you going?’ Adam asked. ‘I thought you’d be at the party.’