by Monica Carly
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go in. As George would say – I’m starving!’
They sat down and studied the menu.
‘Fish and chips or sausages and baked beans?’ asked Fraser.
‘Is one or the other obligatory?’
‘It is if you’re young.’
‘There are, it seems, some distinct advantages to being old. I’ll settle for the salmon.’
Fraser decided to order the roast lamb, and they passed a happy, relaxed hour enjoying a good meal in pleasant surroundings.
‘I hope you don’t mind my asking,’ said Fraser, over the coffee, ‘but I’ve been thinking about all you’ve been through. And I was wondering if you now feel you have been able to draw a line under the past?’
‘Of course I don’t mind. The court case was very difficult at the time, as you know, but it has helped. At least I can feel that justice was done. Nothing can ever right the wrong, nor bring Martin back, but I think I’ve been able to reach the point where I can be glad for the years we had, and start to look forward.’
‘What do you look towards?’ asked Fraser. ‘Or is that rather too personal a question?’
‘You can ask, but at the moment my ideas are not sufficiently well finalised to give you a specific answer. I’m still thinking.’
Fraser nodded. ‘Let’s go and look at the sea,’ he said.
‘Do you want to go on the pier?’
‘I think I must, but first I’d like to just go down to the promenade. Then I’ll buy you a stick of rock and you can buy me a kiss-me-quick hat.’
‘Wouldn’t suit you,’ she replied. ‘And a stick of rock would break my teeth.’
They walked down to the pier and then sat on a bench looking out to sea. Fraser found his attention absorbed by the waves breaking continuously on the pebbles. How many people must have watched them doing that, over the years, and would no doubt go on doing so in the future.
‘I keep thinking about my father,’ he said. ‘I believe he loved my mother very much, and his children, too. It must have been dreadful for him to leave home and go to Poland, knowing that he could well not be coming back.’
‘It was a very sacrificial thing he did.’
After a pause Fraser said, ‘It’s strange to think that Edie’s father was in the war too, but on the other side. I wonder if the two fathers ever came up against each other in the conflict? I imagine that’s a very remote possibility.’
‘Yes, very remote.’
‘After all, Edie’s father would have had to have been in Warsaw as well.’
‘That’s true,’ agreed Angela.
‘Well, I suppose that’s something we’ll never know.’
‘No,’ agreed Angela. ‘You’ll never know.’
‘Right,’ said Fraser. ‘Now the pier, and then we have to walk down to the sea.’
‘Oh dear – my shoes aren’t very suitable for the pebbles.’
‘I know what – we can go on the pier and I’ll buy you some jellies. Or would you prefer crocs? Everyone wears them.’
‘One lovely present is enough for today. Don’t worry – I’m sure I’ll manage.’
They walked through the turnstile, Fraser retracing his steps, hearing the twins’ laughter in his ears and their excited cries. Suddenly he found he was concentrating on the happiness they had all enjoyed rather than dwelling on the tragic part.
‘Let’s go down to the beach now!’ Clasping Angela’s hand he began to pull her towards the promenade, and down the steps. Sure enough she was soon losing her footing and started stumbling on the pebbles. Fraser caught hold of her arm and together they slipped and slid their way down to the water’s edge.
‘Throwing stones into the sea is obligatory,’ said Fraser. ‘I see with relief there’s some left. Kate worried George was going to throw them all into the sea.’
Angela chose a couple of flat ones and launched the pebbles seawards, but they failed to bounce, sinking like the proverbial stone.
‘I see your education has been sadly lacking in the pebble-skimming department,’ remarked Fraser.
‘I think I was off sick that week. You’d better show me how it’s done.’
Fraser bent to select some, and then tossed them over the water, achieving three highly satisfactory bounces before they disappeared from sight.
‘Very good,’ commented Angela. ‘You are indeed an accomplished man.’
Fraser was silent for a moment. Then he said, conversationally, ‘I suppose you wouldn’t consider marrying me?’
‘Why would I want to do that?’ she asked.
‘Well, for starters, there’s my handsome looks and immense wealth.’
‘Irresistible attractions indeed,’ she replied. ‘But I was rather hoping for something more.’
‘Well,’ he said, and stopped.
‘Yes?’ prompted Angela.
‘The thing is …’
She waited.
‘The thing is,’ resumed Fraser, ‘I do a very nice line in kitchens. What do you say?’
Now it was Fraser’s turn to have to wait.
‘I think …’ began Angela.
‘Yes?’ he asked anxiously.
‘I think that would be magic,’ she said.
Laughing, and with their arms round each other’s waists, they clambered back over the pebbles and made for home.
About The Author
Monica Carly was educated in both England and Jamaica, and holds an honours degree in English, French and Latin from Bristol University. Whilst raising a family, Monica found she had a flair for writing, and - now retired from governmental work - spends her time with her loving husband and writing novels.
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