Page 86 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Oh totally. Let’s say no more about it,’ she replied hopefully.

‘Mum’s the word.’ Viv smiled. ‘Now, I’m due at the beauty salon before a hot date with a gorgeous man. Mani, pedi, facial and a short back and sides.’

Liz folded her own stubby nails into her palms. ‘That sounds quite a radical haircut.’

Viv put a hand to her mouth and whispered behind it, ‘Waxing my lady garden, darling. Next time you see me, you won’t recognise me, I’ll be a new woman.’

‘You’re already gorgeous as you are,’ said Liz, thinking that a generous compliment or two wouldn’t go amiss under the circumstances.

‘Bless you,’ Viv said coyly. ‘But you know what it’s like in the early days with a new man; us girls have to make an effort.’

‘I wouldn’t know, it’s been so long,’ replied Liz. ‘Noah mentioned you’d started dating again, who’s the lucky chap?’

Viv’s eyes softened. ‘It’s a guy called Patrick Delmarge. My friend set me up with him. We had our first date last night. He’s quite a catch.’

‘You were with Patrick last night?’ Liz had to stop herself from gasping out loud. This was the woman he’d been talking about? He’d said there’d been no chemistry between them and that he wouldn’t be seeing her again. Viv seemed to think otherwise. Had Patrick lied to her? That seemed unlike him.

‘You know him?’ Viv’s smile froze.

Evidently not as well as she’d thought, Liz mused.

‘He’s a client,’ she replied. ‘That’s all.’

‘Thank goodness for that! I’d hate us to be rivals.’

‘No, no,’ Liz assured her brightly. ‘No chance of that.’

‘We just had a drink yesterday.’ Viv twirled a strand of her hair girlishly. ‘But today I’m going to his house.’

‘He’s got a lovely house,’ said Liz, unable to stop herself from adding, ‘Five bedrooms. He can see my bedroom from his.’

Viv gave her a sharp look. ‘Can he now? Anyway, I must dash. Wish me luck.’

Liz couldn’t bring herself to do that, so she said goodbye instead and sighed with disappointment as Viv sashayed away.

Viv and Patrick. So much for waving flags to each other from their respective bedroom windows. Only this morning she’d been thinking of him as her silver lining, but suddenly her mood had clouded over. Flippin’ men. Would she ever understand them?

Chapter Twenty-Four

Clare

‘Sh-sh-sh-sh,’ Clare murmured, leaning into the travel cot to stroke Ivy’s forehead. It was afternoon nap time and Ivy was almost asleep. The room was dark, and a warm breeze drifted in through the partly open window. Gradually, Ivy’s breathing slowed, and her fingers loosened their grip around Winnie the Pooh’s paw. Her nap would last about an hour; a little pocket of time which, at home in the flat, Clare would spend tidying up or catching up on washing or ironing. She had kept their daily routine as close to normal as possible since being in Salcombe, although now, of course, she couldn’t do much in the way of housework and was having to rely on Skye and Liz to help her do everything.

It was two weeks since she’d broken her arm, and being so useless was driving her bonkers. She could just about manage to pick Ivy up, but she was on edge all the time, in case she moved suddenly and knocked against her. And as for nappy-changing, forget it. The one occasion she’d insisted she could manage had ended very badly; everyone involved had had to have a bath. Auntie Skye had been given the job for the time being. Every cloud and all that, thought Clare now, smiling to herself.

Satisfied that Ivy was asleep, she checked the baby monitor was switched on, closed the bedroom door and carefully descended the steep stairs, holding onto the rail. She did everything slowly and carefully now.

Breaking her arm had scared her. And not just because attending the weekly fracture clinic at the hospital brought back bad memories of losing Mum, but because the self-sufficiency she was so proud of had vanished in a puff of smoke. All it had taken was one slip-up, one accident, to turn her life upside down, Ivy’s too. Their summer holiday wouldn’t create the idyllic memories she’d envisaged; but at least they were at Liz’s, with other people around to help. Clare shuddered every time she thought about what it would be like at home, trying to manage with a broken arm. She’d been upgraded from a simple sling to a brace, at her last appointment it was more difficult to get on and off, and bulkier, but it made it easier to be close to Ivy because her injured bones were better protected.

Clare was never ill. She couldn’t remember taking a day off sick from school in years. In all her internal monologues about her desire to succeed, her determination to remain independent and not rely on anyone else, she’d never considered that one day she might be incapacitated.

Now, she felt vulnerable; Clare Marriott wasn’t invincible after all. She had to learn to let people in, if not for her own sake, then for Ivy’s.

She found Skye and Liz in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to afternoon tea for the Delmarges. They were due in the next hour and the house smelled deliciously of vanilla and sugar and fresh baking. Liz had unearthed her parents’ beautiful Limoges tea service, which Skye was setting onto a tray. Liz was decanting scones from a baking sheet onto a cooling rack.

‘Little Miss Marriott is asleep,’ Clare announced, joining them. ‘Which should mean she’ll be all sweetness and light when our guests arrive.’

‘I shall try to take a leaf out of her book then,’ said Liz. She put the baking sheet in the sink and washed her hands. ‘I would have cancelled on them, but Patrick’s mother and aunt would be so disappointed. They don’t get out of the home very much and it wouldn’t be fair.’