Page 39 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Facelift?’ Clare joined in.

‘A full set of those fake white teeth?’

‘Brazilian bum lift?’ They were both laughing properly now.

‘Hair transplant?’

‘He is very keen on maintaining his youthful physique; he’s a proper gym bunny these days,’ Skye confided. ‘He was talking about being a vegan on Friday. And the bathroom cabinet contains far more of his face products than Nilla’s.’

‘Or maybe he’ll just get himself a younger wife,’ Clare teased. ‘He has form for that. And Nilla has been away for a while. Maybe he’ll get one off the internet this time, hence the twenty grand.’

‘He wouldn’t?’ Skye looked horrified.

‘I wouldn’t put it past him.’

‘Neither would I. I caught his assistant, Harriet, coming out of the bathroom the other day. She claimed she’d been taking a shower after going for a run, but you never know with Dad.’

‘Oh God.’ Clare shuddered. ‘Let’s hope he’s got a good reason for making Liz pay the money back.’

‘He and Nilla are coming up to their seventh anniversary.’ Skye mused. ‘What’s seven? China or wood or something?’

‘A sculpture for the garden? That might cost twenty thousand.’ Clare shrugged. She hadn’t really got to know his third wife. Nilla was twenty years younger than Dad, closer in age to her than him.

‘Maybe.’ Skye didn’t look convinced. She sighed and turned her face out to the water again. ‘Hey, is that Liz, getting on the ferry?’

Clare squinted, shielding her eyes from the sun. ‘You’ve got better eyesight than me. Let’s drink up and go down to the ferry landing to meet her.’

‘Two ticks.’ Skye leapt to her feet. ‘That lemonade has gone straight through me.’

What she could do with twenty thousand pounds, thought Clare wistfully as she waited at the exit of the pub for Skye to come back from the loo. A deposit on a house most likely. Her flat in Bath was gorgeous – high ceilings, plenty of period features and original sash windows. She’d fallen in love with the sweeping staircase. Looking down on it from the top floor where she lived, it curved like an ammonite, with its lovely iron balustrades and polished wood handrails. But after a year of lugging up an increasingly heavy child, thousands of nappies, hundreds of shopping bags, the staircase had begun to lose its allure. Then there was a lack of outside space. It had never bothered her before, but it would be nice to give the washing an airing at weekends – and Ivy, for that matter.

‘Ready.’ Skye appeared, rubbing hand sanitiser into her hands. ‘Shall I help you lift the buggy down the steps?’

She shook her head. ‘I can manage.’

Skye rolled her eyes. ‘You should have that engraved on your tombstone.’

‘Better than I can’t manage,’ Clare retorted. ‘Look, the ferry has landed. Let’s check if Liz was on it.’

Skye tapped along the length of Clare’s arm as she bumped the buggy down towards the ferry landing.

‘What are you doing to my arm?’

‘Looking for a chink in your armour.’

Clare laughed. ‘Did you find one?’

‘Nope,’ Skye replied. ‘But I will. Everyone has a weak spot.’

‘Really? So what’s yours?’

‘There she is!’ Skye had started to wave. ‘Liz! Wait there, I’ll come and help you with the bags!’

She ran on ahead and Clare continued at a slower pace, wishing she’d waited at the top of the steps. Ivy seemed to double in weight when she was asleep. She stood to one side as a crowd of disembarking passengers and their dogs filed past her. By the time she’d reached the bottom, the ferry had reloaded and was already several metres away from the jetty.

‘Do either of you know about Tinder?’ Liz looked pink-faced and happy. ‘Only I was thinking I might––’

‘Hey!’ There was a sudden shout from aboard the ferry and the three women looked round.