Page 24 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘You could do it in your sleep,’ Clare assured her. ‘You’re a brilliant cook.’

‘And I’m a quick learner,’ Skye put in.

Liz looked at them with a rush of gratitude; they were so full of faith. More tears slid down her face. She let the girls lead her back to the chair.

‘I’ve let Jen down terribly,’ she groaned. ‘I don’t think we’re even insured anymore. She’d be appalled if she could see how I’ve let things slide without her.’

‘Nah,’ said Clare, ‘she was never bothered about money. But she’d be sad that you’ve let it get you down.’

‘We can smash this, you know,’ said Skye, crouching beside her. ‘If Clare doesn’t mind working on her holiday, between the three of us – four counting Ivy – I have every faith we can do it.’

As if on cue, Ivy crawled over to join them, still holding the wooden hammer, and hoisted herself up using Liz’s legs.

‘Hello, darling.’ Liz gave Ivy a watery smile and took her soft, pudgy hand in hers. ‘I’ve been quite lonely, so having all of you here at Clemency House is wonderful for me. But this enforced proximity for you two—’

‘We’ll work it out,’ said Clare, interrupting her. She picked up Ivy and sniffed her nappy before setting her in Liz’s lap. ‘And you were right about keeping Ivy away from the clients’ kitchens, very sensible. But I can do other stuff – take bookings, do the invoices, go food shopping even.’

‘Are you sure?’ Liz said doubtfully, turning Ivy round to face her. ‘This is supposed to be your holiday, after all.’

Clare thought about it for a moment. ‘It’ll make me feel close to Mum and that’ll make me happy.’

‘That’s settled then,’ said Skye. ‘Dad will have that money back in his bank account before you can say—’

‘Good grief, is that the time? Must be off,’ Clare mimicked Mike’s jovial tone perfectly, making them all laugh. She handed Ivy a cardboard book and ruffled her hair. ‘Right. I think I’ll take charge of the teapot, Skye, or it’ll be time for bed.’

‘Sorry.’ Skye got up from her position on the floor. ‘I’ll do the scones.’

‘Thank you,’ said Liz, feeling close to tears again. ‘Thank you both.’

‘Don’t thank me just yet,’ Skye confided in a whisper. ‘I’ve never worked in the catering industry before; I’m probably going to be terrible.’

This is what she needed, thought Liz, watching the young women find their way around her kitchen, while in her lap, Ivy babbled to herself, as if reading a story. Life. People to love and look after. And people to care about her.

The Seaside Gourmet Girls might only have one summer left, but she had to make this work. She just had to.

Chapter Eight

Skye

The shrill call of seagulls pulled Skye from sleep the following morning. Despite a very comfortable bed and pillows as soft as clouds, she hadn’t slept well. It had been difficult to fully switch off after the events of yesterday and, when she’d finally dropped off to sleep, Ivy had cried out and she’d woken up again with a start. Still, at least she hadn’t had to get up and see to her, unlike Clare.

Skye reached for her phone to check the time. Six a.m. Kampala was two hours ahead; everyone would be up and getting on with the day. Jesse would probably be on a weekend trip with the volunteers, ensuring the young people who worked at the Hope Foundation got to see as much of the country as possible while the school was closed for the weekend.

Her stomach fluttered with homesickness, and she scrolled through her phone until she found their conversation thread and typed a new message.

Morning! Just woken up and was thinking about you. Hope all is going well without me? X

She bit her lip, waiting for a reply. She was breaking their agreement by getting in touch. She’d left Uganda because she needed time and space away, to work out what she wanted from the next however many years of her life without someone pushing her for an answer. Fine in theory, but after being together twenty-four/seven, living under the same roof and working side by side for the charity, having no contact was much harder than she’d envisaged.

Jesse is typing appeared on her screen and her heart thumped in anticipation.

I thought we said no messages!? Not that I’m complaining. All good here, just the usual dramas: a couple of upset stomachs and a lost passport! Dembe says hello and that your Ugandan family misses you. We all miss you. Especially me, J xx

Skye heaved a sigh of relief at Jesse’s easy-going response and smiled to herself. Most of the volunteers were aged eighteen to twenty-two and regardless of how many warnings they got about the dangers of too much sun, or getting carried away with alcohol, there were always casualties. She sent her love, finished with two kisses and switched off her phone. They were fine without her, of course they were, and in the meantime, she had her own family to deal with.

She rolled out of bed and tiptoed quietly downstairs to the kitchen. There wasn’t a peep from anyone else and she didn’t want to disturb them. She was greeted by the smell of last night’s fish and chips from the empty takeaway cartons stacked by the bin. Opening the sliding glass doors, she stepped out into the fresh air. The decking was cold under her bare feet, the chairs were covered in dew and too wet to sit on. Instead, she leaned on the steel handrail and gazed down at the pale grey rooftops of Salcombe and the water beyond.

What an unexpected turn of events, she mused, closing her eyes briefly and tilting her face to the early-morning sun. She’d gone from living and working with Jesse to living and working with her godmother in the space of just a few weeks. And now she faced the prospect of spending more time with her prickly half-sister than she’d ever done in her life.