by Holly Martin
‘Oh hey,’ Skye greeted her sisters as if the abundance of food was completely normal.
Clover took one look at the food and laughed. ‘Are you excited for Jesse’s arrival?’
‘More like worried and nervous,’ Skye said, grabbing a waffle and loading it up with cheese and ham. For someone who had such a sweet tooth that she’d built her entire career out of making desserts and puddings, she’d surprisingly had a need for savoury foods lately.
‘Why are you nervous?’ Aria said as she took a pancake.
‘Because I promised myself the next time I saw him, I’d tell him I love him.’
Aria looked up, spoon halfway between the fruit and her pancake. ‘Oh my god, that’s… huge.’
Skye tried to shrug it off. ‘It won’t change anything. I just figured it was time he knew.’
If she pretended she was blasé about it then maybe she would believe her own bravado. Right now, the thought of having that conversation terrified her.
‘I’m pretty sure he feels the same way,’ Clover said, popping two pieces of bread into the toaster.
Skye sighed. ‘I don’t think he does. He likes me, he cares about me, he enjoys having sex with me, but it’s not that can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t breathe kind of love. Not for him. If it was he wouldn’t have divorced me when our year of marriage came to an end.’
‘I think,’ Aria said carefully, ‘that he probably thought he was acting in the best interest of Bea.’
‘Why would us staying married be a bad thing for Bea? I adore her and I think the feeling is mutual.’
‘Bea was seven when her mum left, wasn’t she?’ Aria said.
Skye nodded. She remembered it well. She hadn’t long moved next door to Jesse when his wife had left. Jesse’s ex-wife, Ginny, had never been mum of the year, she’d often take off for a several weeks at a time leaving Jesse to look after Bea on his own. But when Bea was seven, Ginny had packed her bags and left, never to return. The divorce papers had arrived a few months later. Jesse had been gutted and Bea utterly heartbroken.
Aria frowned. ‘That must have been so hard for Bea. How do you explain to a seven-year-old that her mum isn’t coming back? Ginny might not have been a very good mum but she was Bea’s mum. When Orla first came here she was confused and upset and I think she was just waiting to be taken away from us again, to be moved on. She still asks about her parents. Jesse must have found it hard handling that with Bea. He would want to protect her from being hurt like that again.’
Skye didn’t like the sound of that. She would never do anything to hurt Bea, surely Jesse knew that.
‘Let’s go and eat outside,’ she said, taking her plate and stepping outside on the decking. The sun warmed her skin as soon as she was outside but there was a cool breeze. Summer was on its way but it wasn’t quite there yet.
She sat down at the table and looked out over the sparkling sea as her sisters joined her. They ate in silence for a while, as Skye thought about what Aria had said.
‘I just feel,’ Aria said, focussing her attention on her fruit, ‘that falling in love is uncertain. No one really knows if it will last forever or be over in a few months or years. People change, some people have affairs, they get bored, they move on, and Jesse probably felt that if he let something serious happen between you two and it came to an end, Bea would get hurt all over again. He probably thought this friends-with-benefits arrangement would suit everyone; no attachments, you still get to see each other, you still have great sex, Bea need never know.’
‘It doesn’t suit me,’ Skye said, grumpily, knowing Aria was probably right. ‘I miss him like crazy when he’s not here.’
‘My point is, he didn’t divorce you because he didn’t love you, he probably did it in some misguided attempt to protect Bea. You shouldn’t let that hold you back from going after the life you want. That man worships the ground you walk on. He loves you too, I know he does.’
Skye wasn’t so sure. If it had been down to her, she would never have let Jesse and Bea go.
‘Even if he does, it’s not enough,’ Skye said. ‘He has to want things to change. I don’t want to go back to Canada, live in separate houses, continue this occasional friends-with-benefits relationship. It killed me to have him so close yet not have him, not like that. I don’t want to keep us secret any more.’
‘I think you need to tell him that,’ Clover said. ‘This arrangement isn’t working any more, if it ever did in the first place. Maybe you tell him it has to be all or nothing.’
‘What if he chooses nothing?’ Skye said, feeling sick at the thought.
‘What if he chooses all?’ Aria said.
‘Maybe he could come here more permanently,’ Clover suggested.
‘I think that’s a bit tricky because of Bea,’ Skye said.
‘She has dual citizenship, doesn’t she?’ Aria said.
‘Yes, her mum was born in the UK and then moved to Canada when she was little, so Bea has the best of both worlds, I just meant because of school and her friends. That’s a big move for a young girl.’
Clover and Aria nodded to concede this.
Skye sighed and eyed Clover nibbling away at her buttered toast. ‘Why are you not eating pancakes or waffles like you normally do?’
Clover put her toast down. ‘I can’t face sweet things right now.’
Skye watched her sister pick at the toast as if she didn’t want that either and Skye immediately knew. Suddenly it made sense why Angel had been weird about Clover picking up Orla the day before.
‘I’m pregnant,’ Clover said, quietly.
‘Oh my god, Clover, that’s amazing news,’ Skye said, leaping out of her seat to hug her.
Aria leapt up too, squealing with happiness as they formed a big group hug around Clover who hadn’t managed to stand up before they had descended on her.
Skye stepped back. ‘Wait, it is good news, right?’
‘It is, we’re thrilled. We’ve talked about having children. I think it happened a lot earlier than we were expecting but we’re happy about it. Angel is really excited. We weren’t going to tell anyone until we were at three months in case…’ Clover trailed off.
Realisation hit Skye like a ton of bricks and she sat back down. ‘Because I miscarried.’
Clover nodded.
Skye let out a heavy breath. She had been so young when she had married Oliver, one of those whirlwind, flash-in-the-pan kind of romances that would have been over much sooner than it was had they not tied the knot. Oliver had been desperate to have children straightaway and, though Skye had been keen to wait, he had badgered her into it. Three traumatic miscarriages and a year later and the relationship had come to an end. Skye had reconciled herself to the fact that maybe her body wasn’t made to have children, that maybe something was wrong. She’d never thought that Clover, being her identical twin, would have those issues, but clearly it had been playing on Clover’s mind. Now, what should have been a happy occasion for her sister was clouded with the worry of whether she could lose this baby too.
‘Hey, miscarriages aren’t hereditary. Just because I had trouble doesn’t mean you will,’ Skye said.
‘Angel said the same. He’s done a ton of research into it and it’s very very unlikely that it’s genetic,’ Clover said.
‘I understand why you’re being cautious but Angel is right. Whatever is wrong with me does not mean you have the same thing.’
‘How far along are you?’ Aria asked.
‘Just a few weeks.’
All of Skye’s miscarriages had happened within the first few weeks. She would be a lot happier once Clover got past the three-month mark.
‘Have you been to see a doctor yet?’ Skye asked.
‘We’re seeing Dr Lomax tomorrow morning, down in the village.’
‘Well, tell her about my three miscarriages and that you have concerns about it happening to you,’ Skye said. ‘I’m sure she’ll put your mind at ease.’
‘I’m sur
e she will too,’ Clover nodded, as if she was trying to convince herself.
They sat in silence for a moment.
‘I’m sorry,’ Skye said.
‘Oh my god, you have nothing to be sorry for,’ Clover said, taking her hand. ‘It wasn’t your fault. In fact, in the research Angel did about miscarriages, it’s just as likely to be issues with the man’s health as it is the woman’s. Oliver smoked, he drank like a fish – all of those factors could lead to poor-quality sperm which can lead to miscarriages.’
‘Really?’ Skye said, a chink of hope suddenly breaking through her armour. She had always thought it was down to her. Although it didn’t make a lot of difference. She didn’t think she would ever be able to get over Jesse and move on with someone else. And she certainly wouldn’t be having children with him when their whole friends-with-benefits arrangement was such a big secret. But there was some hope for her distant future, and hope now for Clover’s baby too.
‘I bet Angel has super sperm,’ Skye said. ‘That baby will be as strong as an ox.’
Clover giggled.
‘And I bet it comes out wearing a stupid t-shirt,’ Aria said.
Skye laughed. She looked at her sisters; their lives were happy, their futures were bright. Aria was married, Clover was getting married in a few months. They were both raising a family. She, on the other hand, was still completely in love with a man who had divorced her two and half years before and lived thousands of miles away.
Maybe it was time to get her life back on track. Maybe it was time to try to get over Jesse once and for all.
Jesse and Bea arrived early evening, after what would have been a very long train journey from London to the bottom of Cornwall and then another train to the nearest station to Jewel Island. All thoughts of keeping his visit purely platonic went straight out the window as soon as Skye saw him walk in through the door of Cones at the Cove as the first evening visitors were starting to arrive. He was utterly divine. He was a great big bear of a man – at six foot ten he was the tallest person she knew – and he was so broad and strong too. There was no greater feeling in the world than being pinned to the bed by this man. Or the wall, or the floor.
She couldn’t help running straight over and throwing herself into his arms.
He held her tight and whispered in her ear, ‘God, I’ve missed you so much.’
She smiled, desperate to kiss him but knowing she couldn’t with Bea standing next to him. Instead she reached up and briefly caressed the back of his neck before she pulled away and looked at Bea. She was so much like her dad in many ways: dark curly hair, crazy tall for her age, gentle green eyes. Skye pulled her into her arms.
‘Oh my god, you’re getting so big,’ Skye said, holding her tight.
Bea giggled. ‘You say that every time.’
‘But it’s true. And I don’t get to see you every day so it’s a big shock when I do. I miss you.’
‘I miss you too,’ Bea said. ‘It’s not the same seeing you every few months.’
‘I know, it really isn’t,’ Skye said, sadly, closing her eyes while she held her that little bit longer.
She stepped back and looked at Jesse who was watching them.
‘I bet you guys are knackered. Why don’t I get the keys to my cottage and you can get settled in, take a shower, go to bed.’
‘Weirdly, we’re pretty wide awake right now,’ Jesse said. ‘Probably the jet lag. If it suits you, we’ll hang around here for a few hours. We dumped our bags at the hotel, I’ll go back and collect them later.’
‘Of course.’ She turned to Bea. ‘Do you want to help yourself to ice cream?’
Jesse groaned although Skye could tell he didn’t really mind.
‘Oh shush,’ Bea laughed. ‘I’ll have some fruit as a topping to balance out the sugar.’
‘Perfect solution,’ Skye said, looping an arm around Bea’s shoulders and guiding her over to the ice cream wall to show her all the new flavours that had arrived since the last time Bea had visited at Christmas. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jesse sitting down in one of the booths.
‘Ooh, strawberry-cheesecake flavour,’ Bea said, grabbing a bowl. ‘How is that different to strawberry?’
‘Why don’t you try it,’ Skye said, picking up a small spoon so Bea could have a little bite.
Bea scooped up a tiny amount and tasted it. ‘Oh my god, it really does taste like strawberry cheesecake.’
‘I actually used real strawberry cheesecake in this one, you’ll even find bits of biscuit base in there too. Plus there’s strawberries, so that’s one of your five a day.’
‘Sold,’ Bea said, dishing out a huge dollop of it.
‘How are you doing anyway?’ Skye said, pointing out the passion fruit.
Bea wrinkled her nose and Skye wondered if it was the passion fruit or the question that had caused that face.
‘I’m OK,’ Bea said.
Skye immediately knew that Bea was putting on a brave face.
‘Come on now, this is me you’re talking to. What’s wrong?’
‘Oh, it’s just school.’ Bea took a scoop of the coconut and Skye was silent while she waited for her to elaborate. Bea looked at her and sighed. ‘I like to read; I love to learn and at recess I just want to read my book. The other kids make fun of me because of it. They all play these silly games and chase each other and I’m just not interested. And then in class, they call me teacher’s pet because I know all the answers and it makes me not want to answer any more. Why am I a teacher’s pet just because I spend my spare time reading and they spend it playing Minecraft or Fortnite?’
Skye’s heart hurt for her; she hated that Bea was being teased just because she was smart and liked to read and learn.
‘Does your dad know this?’
‘Yes, he says the other kids will regret it when I’m Prime Minister of Canada.’
Skye smiled. She could totally see Bea running the whole of Canada, she’d be very good at it.
Bea sighed. ‘Dad says he will home-school me if that would make things better, but I know he hasn’t got the time or enough money to give up work to do that.’
‘Is there another school?’ Skye said, carefully. She didn’t want to step on any toes here. She wasn’t Bea’s mum.
‘Dad suggested that too, but we live in the middle of the mountains, there isn’t another school for miles. Dad said we could move house but that’s not fair on him, he has friends there.’
Skye suppressed a smile; Bea was so grown-up sometimes.
‘But some of the lessons are so boring. Why do I need to learn French? I speak French. Dad spoke to me in French from a baby, he still does now. I can have whole conversations in French and I’m sitting in class learning how to count to twenty and how to order a burger.’
Skye smiled. She loved that Jesse and Bea spoke French, that Jesse would often have whole conversations with her in French to keep her language skills current. Jesse was born and raised in Quebec, where French was spoken more often than English, and Jesse had grown up bilingual, so he wanted to make sure Bea did too. Skye had even tried learning it so she could join in with them, but she didn’t get to practise as often as she wanted.
‘The French teacher can’t even speak French,’ Bea went on. ‘She’s always asking me to help her. So I started reading a book in the French lessons about World War Two, under the desk so the teacher wouldn’t notice, and she saw me and I got in trouble.’
‘Oh no,’ Skye said. She didn’t have an answer for that. She actually wanted to laugh. Was it bad that Bea was practically skiving off the lesson? Or was it a sign of resourcefulness that she was using her time wisely? Maybe she wouldn’t be any good at being a parent after all if she didn’t know how to handle something as simple as this. ‘What did your dad say?’
Bea smiled. ‘He laughed and said next time not to get caught. He said he could download an app for me so I could learn Spanish or German instead and surreptitiously listen to it in French lessons and
no one would know.’
‘How would people not know?’
‘You put the iPod or whatever it is in your pocket and the cable for the headphone down your sleeve and then lean on your hand.’
Skye laughed. ‘Your dad suggested that?’
Bea nodded. ‘But then he said he would have a word with the teacher so I could do it with permission in the library or somewhere else instead and I wouldn’t get into more trouble if I got caught. But I think I prefer the idea of learning Spanish secretly with my headphones down my sleeve like a spy.’
Skye smiled. ‘I bet you do. Bea, you are one of the smartest kids I know and you should never ever feel bad because you’re cleverer than everyone else. Be proud of your smarts. Your dad is right: when you’re older you’ll be in this big high-powered job, running the world, and they’ll be serving fries in some burger place.’
Bea laughed. She added some toppings to her ice cream, mainly fruit as she had promised her dad, but also some chocolate buttons.
‘Do you want a flake on top?’ Skye said.
‘I thought people say, “with a cherry on top”?’ Bea said.
‘Yeah, I was never that keen on cherries when I was growing up, certainly not the glacé cherries you often see in desserts. For me, the pièce de résistance in an ice cream sundae would always be a flake on top.’
‘Maybe we should change it then. When something is perfect, we can say we have the flake on top.’
‘I like that. Bea, you are the flake on top, you’re perfect exactly as you are. You keep doing you. Don’t let other people bring you down.’
Bea smiled. ‘Dad said the same thing.’
Skye looked over at Jesse who was watching them.
‘He’s a clever man, your dad.’
‘Most of the time. Although he divorced you, which was pretty stupid if you ask me,’ Bea said, before walking over to join her dad.