Page 94 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Perhaps.’ Liz folded her arms. ‘The person I’m having lunch with is Viv. I think you might know her?’

‘Ah.’ His smile froze. ‘Yes, we’ve met.’

‘Last time I saw her, she was looking forward to a date with you. Was that a picnic on your boat too?’ she asked coolly. ‘Oh, no, silly me. You invited her to your house.’

‘I’ll go inside,’ said Clare meekly. ‘Goodbye, Patrick, nice to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’ He smiled faintly as she retreated into the hallway.

‘Salcombe is a close-knit place,’ she heard Liz say. ‘It’s hard to keep secrets. Like lunch dates.’

He held his hands up. ‘Liz, please let me explain.’

‘No, Patrick, I will not. Because the fact that you even feel the need to explain tells me all I need to know. I confided in you, and you weren’t honest with me. You know I’ve been hung up on the same man for forty years.’

What? Clare had started to go downstairs, but her ears pricked up at that. She turned and crept back up and stood hidden behind the front door.

‘Liz, I don’t know what to say, but I assure you—’ Poor Patrick was floundering by the sound of it.

But Liz wasn’t in the mood to listen. ‘I was trying to break the power he has over me because you said I deserved better. And you were right. I do.’

‘But …’ he stammered.

‘Goodbye, Patrick.’

Clare leapt out of the way as Liz stepped inside the house and shut the door.

‘Sorry,’ she blustered, embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping. ‘I didn’t mean to overhear.’

‘Never mind,’ Liz replied briskly, two red spots like warning signals flashing up on her cheeks. ‘I think he got his answer.’

She skirted past Clare without another word, charged upstairs to her room and shut the door with a thud.

He certainly had, thought Clare. But she hadn’t got her answer: who on earth had Liz been ‘hung up on’ all these years, who was she trying to break free from? Clare’s brain crackled with possibilities, but she drew a blank

Her own secrets had come out in the open this summer, it sounded as if Liz’s could be next.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Clare

There was a knock at the front door. Clare left Ivy sitting on the rug, checked her face in the mirror – she was a bit rosy, but there was nothing she could do about that now – and opened the door.

Adam.

She felt her chest heave as a mix of pleasure and apprehension stole her ability to speak. She was so glad he was finally here. Not that he was late, but Skye and Liz had gone out half an hour ago to cater for the wake and she’d been like a child with ants in her pants ever since, unable to sit still for more than two minutes.

‘All good?’ He smiled at her. The same friendly smile she’d been attracted to on the night they’d met.

‘Yep.’ She gestured to him to come inside, returning his smile.

An awkward moment followed in which they leaned towards each other in anticipation of a kiss, both thought better of it and leaned out again. Good start, thought Clare, that was like the mating ritual of two shy flamingos.

‘You?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, great. Lovely day.’ He put his hands in his pockets.

‘It is,’ she agreed. This was painful, where was her witty repartee? Her funny one-liners? And why was she riveted to the spot, staring up at him?