Page 38 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘I was always scared of the sea when I was little,’ said Skye, sweeping her phone across the bay slowly to video it. ‘Probably because once when I was swimming with Dad, he pretended that a piranha had brushed his leg. I was almost sick with fear and wouldn’t go in again the whole holiday.’

Clare gave a snort. ‘And there was me hoping he’d spend more time with us this summer. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.’

‘I’m sure he’ll come if you ask him,’ said Skye. ‘He’s so proud of you.’

Clare gave her a wry look. ‘He didn’t even spend time with me when I was a child, he’s not going to change now. It was fine though,’ she said casually. ‘Mum and I had a good time. Holidays by the sea were the best bit of my childhood. And I want that for Ivy. Memories of endless summers, jumping over the waves, playing on the beach until dusk, trudging back up the hill with sandy feet and sunkissed skin.’

She settled Ivy back on their blanket and handed her a drink.

‘Sounds lovely.’ Skye sighed, stretching out in the sun. ‘Most of my holiday memories are of Mum and Dad bickering and Dad would inevitably be called back to work, leaving the two of us on our own. I think my favourite holiday was to Disneyland Paris. When you came.’

‘That was your favourite holiday?’ Clare couldn’t believe it. Personally, she’d hated every second of it. Although that was largely down to the fact that she’d been sixteen and all her friends had gone to Leeds Festival without her. She’d spent the week dawdling behind Dad, Frankie and Skye with her headphones in, pretending she wasn’t with them.

Skye nodded. ‘And even though it was obvious you hated every second of it, it was still nice to have someone to share a room with.’

‘Good times.’ Clare flushed, remembering how she’d brought a roll of sticky tape with her in order to mark a physical divide down the centre of the room, telling Skye that under no circumstances was she allowed to cross into her half.

Just then, Ivy recovered from her dip in the water, shuffled on her bottom across the blanket towards Skye and pulled herself up to standing.

‘Have you come to say hello to Auntie Skye?’ Skye said, taking hold of Ivy’s hands to steady her. She quickly looked at Clare. ‘Whoops, is that OK? Calling myself Auntie?’

Ivy reached up to Skye’s face, pulled off her sunglasses and laughed delightedly. Clare watched her daughter interact with her half-sister. The baby had no idea, no interest in whether this new friend was a blood relative or not, she didn’t care that Clare and Skye had different mothers, and it would be years before she showed any interest in knowing about her family. As far as Ivy was concerned, Skye was just here, spending time with her, having fun, making Ivy happy. Clare swallowed the lump in her throat.

‘Of course it is,’ she replied briskly. ‘Half-Auntie Skye would be a bit of a mouthful.’

Skye blinked and, for a second, looked like she might cry. ‘Thanks. Now she’ll always know that I’m her family.’

Family. Clare’s heart skipped a beat. ‘I’d like that.’

Ivy suddenly scrambled back to Clare, held her breath and then gave a short grunt.

‘Oh God,’ Clare groaned, knowing exactly what that meant.

There was a high-pitched bubbling sound, followed by a hot sensation on her thigh.

‘Do you know what,’ said Clare, ‘I think we’re done with the beach for today. Shall we go?’

‘Mmm.’ Skye nodded, wrinkling her nose. ‘Good idea.’

Half an hour later, they were back in town in the garden of the Ferry Inn. Clare and Skye were sipping cold lemonades, leaning on the wall. Across the estuary, the ferry unloaded one lot of passengers and boarded another. Clare kept an eye out for Liz, who’d be sailing back in this direction soon. Ivy was fast asleep in the buggy between them.

‘Not quite the perfect first beach trip I envisaged,’ said Clare. ‘I had visions of her being a water baby. Oh well.’

‘Will she remember it, do you think, being so young?’ Skye asked, scrolling through the photos she’d taken that day.

Clare poked for a slice of lemon with her staw. ‘I think memories are like layers of colour on a painting, you can’t see them anymore but they’re there. They’re what make up the whole. I hope that whenever Ivy thinks of this place, she’ll feel happy. It doesn’t matter if she remembers individual things or not.’

‘Like the volume of her shrieks when we dangled her in the sea, you mean?’ Skye took a cube of ice out of her glass and crunched on it, making Clare wince. It had been ages since she’d visited a dentist, she didn’t seem to have time for things like that anymore. ‘Exactly. And I’d rather she erased the smell of those public toilets from her memory banks too. I should …’ She left the sentence unfinished and sipped her drink.

I should have left her with you, as you suggested, she almost said. But that would admit that sometimes she needed help. And if she started relying on other people, going home to an empty flat on her own was going to feel even harder than it already was.

‘What do you think about Dad demanding money from Liz?’ she said, changing the subject.

‘Demanding is a bit harsh,’ Skye replied. ‘It is his money.’

‘But at such short notice?’ Clare frowned. ‘What can he need it for?’

‘God knows. A new man bag?’ Skye giggled.