A Second Chance Summer

by Katharine E Smith

  Eventually, I move along, aware that Casey and Sophie are waiting for me. I take careful steps down the steep hill, looking up every now and then to catch a glimpse once more of the sea, and trying to see if the dolphins are still there, but they are now nowhere to be seen.

  I trek along the tiny streets and round the corner to that welcoming blast of fresh sea air. Up there, on the cliffs, is where I sat with Sam last night, I remind myself. I hug that thought close and congratulate myself on not having bombarded him with texts yet. Although I should message him soon, I think, just to check everything’s OK.

  The beach is busy but I know where I’m heading and it’s easy to identify Casey, in a small orange bikini which fits comfortably over her well-toned body, and a large straw hat, complete with flowers on the brim, plus a pair of oversized sunglasses. She is every bit the glamorous film star. You would never guess that body had carried and delivered a child; of the two of us it is definitely me that looks more like I’ve gone through a pregnancy.

  Sophie looks up and waves. I smile to see she is already hard at work, digging away at the sand near the rock.

  “We are going to make the best fort!” I say, smiling.

  Casey looks up. “Hi, Daphne!”

  Sophie looks quizzical. “I thought this was Alice..?”

  “It’s a long story,” I say.

  “You two are weird,” Sophie says, grinning.

  Casey smiles back at her, and reclines on her towel. I pull out my newly acquired buckets and spades. “Can I join in?” I ask Sophie.

  “Of course! Daphne,” she looks at me as she says this, to see what kind of reaction she’ll get. Her brown eyes shine mischievously.

  “Thanks very much, Cynthia.”

  Sophie giggles. “Cynthia!” she says to herself, turning back to her digging.

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask.

  “I’m trying to build an Iron Age hill fort, like Maiden Castle, we went there on a school trip this term.”

  “Did you?” I smile, “I went there when I was a bit older than you. My mum and dad took me and my friend Julie on holiday.”

  “Wow! I’d love to go on holiday, we never go anywhere.”

  “That’s cos all your school trips and after school clubs cost so much!” Casey says, and I think she is only half-joking.

  “Do you know what? You live in the best place ever,” I say to Sophie. “Do you know how much people pay to come on holiday to the place where you live?”

  “No, how much?”

  “Well, er, a lot. A lot of money.”

  I wonder about Sophie’s dad; how much input he has into her life, financially. Whether he could be the person to take her on holiday? Casey is trying to set up her business although, to be fair, that can’t take up all her time. She only does a couple of classes a week. None of my business, I remind myself.

  “OK… anyway… Maiden Castle, eh? I’d say that’s going to be pretty tricky with sand. What if we just try to build a huge hill first off, and we’ll put a moat around it.”

  “Dad always does moats, too,” Sophie says.

  “Well, he sounds like a very sensible person,” I say, wondering if this is OK with Casey.

  “He’s not, he’s really silly,” Sophie giggles.

  “Even better!” I say, and set to work digging.

  While Casey lies back and tops up her tan, I dig and build, making regular trips to the shoreline with Sophie to bring back buckets of water in an attempt to make the sand easier to mould and hold in place. I don’t mind because I really enjoy this kind of stuff but I wonder what Sophie and Casey would be doing if I wasn’t there. Would the girl be left to her own devices, or would Casey help her? Was I being treated like some kind of unpaid au pair?

  After a while, Casey sits up, pulling her sunglasses down so she can see our construction. “Wow, that looks great,” she flashes Sophie a smile. “You two have been working hard, shall I go and get some drinks?”

  “Yes please, Mum,” Sophie says. “Can I have Orangina?”

  “Of course,” Casey says. “Alice, do you fancy a beer?”

  “I think I’ll have an Orangina as well, please. I’m trying not to drink during the day.” I don’t drink during the week, at home, and I have been feeling like I’ve had a bit too much since I’ve been here. After all, I’m not on holiday. I’m here all summer. I can’t carry on as if I’m on a fortnight away.

  “Suit yourself,” Casey shrugs mildly. “Don’t mind if I have one, do you?”

  “No, of course not.” I hope I didn’t sound judgmental. It’s only a beer, after all. I just don’t really fancy one at the moment.

  While Casey has gone, I check my phone. There’s a message from Sam. My heart leaps when I see his words:

  What are you doing tonight? xxx

  I think for a moment. I would really like to spend the evening with Julie – or at least an evening – but I have no idea where she is and I haven’t heard back from her since I sent her the message earlier. I presume she is with Luke. And if I’m honest, I don’t want to pass up the chance of seeing Sam.

  No plans at the moment xx

  That’s what I wanted to hear (read)! Can I take you to dinner? We have more to catch up on xxx

  I can’t believe how nervous and thrilled I feel. This is what is known as a dream come true. I’m back in the place I love, and tonight I will be seeing the man I love. I don’t see the point in pretending otherwise, although I’m not intending to tell him that. I don’t want to sound mad.

  That sounds lovely. I should be ready any time after seven xxx

  Another message comes back super-quick.

  OK… I might be a little later… I’ll try to be with you between half seven and eight, that OK? xxx

  Perfect xxx

  I look at Sophie and smile. She returns a wide, innocent smile, the bridge of her nose wrinkling a little, changing the pattern of freckles on her face. She’s a lovely girl.

  “Mum!” she exclaims, and leaps to her feet, running to Casey as if she hasn’t seen her for weeks. Casey is carrying a small polystyrene tray with two takeaway coffee cups and three bottles of Orangina.

  “I thought I should follow your good example,” she says to me.

  I feel bad. “Oh, you shouldn’t have, it’s only a beer… it’s just I’ve had quite a lot of nights on the booze lately,” I say. “And it’s so hot today, a beer would just dehydrate me.”

  As Sophie shakes her Orangina then opens it and gulps half the bottle in one go, Casey leans in conspiratorially. “I drink every night. Every night,” she reiterates.

  “Do you?” I ask, wondering what is the right thing to say. “What do you drink?”

  “Oh, sometimes just a glass of wine.”

  “Well, that’s OK,” I say, not really sure it is, but wanting to reassure her, “I’m sure they say a glass of red wine every day’s good for your heart.”

  “Ha!” she laughs, “It’s normally white wine, or rosé… and really, it’s more like half a bottle a night, at least.”

  “OK…” I say, grasping for the correct response. “Is it bothering you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you just try and cut out a couple of nights a week?” I’ve read somewhere that giving your body two alcohol-free days a week gives it a chance to redress the balance. I can imagine how tempting it is when you are a single parent, and your kid’s gone to bed – to just pick up a bottle, have a glass, maybe two… After all, you’re kind of stuck, I guess. Not that I tend to go out anywhere much in the evenings, back home, but I suppose I know I could, if I wanted to.

  “Yes, yes, you’re right, I might do that.”

  I’m not convinced. Still, she’s opted for a non-alcoholic option now, which is a start.

  “Mum, can I have something to eat?” Sophie asks.

  “I’ll see what I’ve got in my bag,” Casey says. “I don’t really bother with lunch,” she says to me. “Sometimes I forget on weekends tha
t Sophie needs to eat.”

  “So do you!” I say. I can’t bear to miss any of my meals. The thought of Sophie having to go without isn’t great. “But you’re in luck! I got these earlier…”

  I bring out the cakes, bread and cheese. The apples roll out of my hand onto the sand.

  Casey wrinkles her nose. I see a real similarity between her and Sophie as she does so. Sophie, however, jumps up. “Oh wow, Alice… I mean Daphne! They look so nice. Can I have one, please, Mum? Mum doesn’t like me having cakes,” she tells me.

  “Is it OK?” I ask Casey, wondering if I have stepped on her toes by bringing all these fattening things. But Sophie is a growing girl and from what I’ve seen of her, she never stops moving. Casey’s the one who’s just lounging about. “And what about you?”

  “Oh no, I’m fine, really,” she says.

  “Come on, you should have something. You can afford to have one little cake. Or a bit of bread and cheese..?” I’m starting to get an idea of how she manages to stay so slim, even if she does drink every night. “It’s hot and you’re out in the sun, you should have something to keep you going so you don’t get heatstroke.” I am not really convinced by my argument, but it’s the best I can come up with.

  “Well, OK, maybe I’ll have a bit of the bread. And one of the apples.” Casey smiles at me and again I see the similarity between her and Sophie. Behind all that make-up and underneath that perfectly tanned skin, I suspect she is really not very confident. I suppose her life took a different direction when she became a mum, and then Sophie’s dad left, and she’s been on her own – with Sophie – ever since. It must be hard. But she shouldn’t forget Sophie needs lunch, I think. And again I have to tell myself off. It’s easy to judge from the outside.

  Meanwhile, Sophie is patiently, politely, waiting. “Tuck in,” I say, “Help yourself! That is, as long as it’s OK with your mum.” I myself have just taken a huge bite out of a very jammy doughnut.

  “That’s great. Thank you, Daphne!”

  I laugh. “No problem, Cynthia.”

  I watch Casey with the bread. She takes a very reserved bite. Then another. She must be starving, I think. I take another bite of my doughnut, the jam oozing over my fingers and sugar sticking to my lips. I must look disgusting in Casey’s eyes, I think. Sophie is gobbling her brownie as if she hasn’t eaten for weeks, but I feel I should be more restrained, given the speed at which Casey is eating. “More bread?” I ask her but get that pretty nose-wrinkle in return. “Sophie?” I offer it to the girl.

  “Yes please!” she replies enthusiastically. I’m glad she hasn’t caught her mum’s resistance to food.

  “Sophie’s dad’s coming down in a while,” Casey says. “I thought I might ask him to have Sophie tonight then you and I can go out.”

  “Oh,” I say, “I don’t know if I can tonight, I’m… otherwise engaged.” I am too excited about Sam to keep it quiet any longer and I am about to tell Casey about him when Sophie jumps up, knocking her drink over on the towel.

  “Dad!” she calls. I must admit I’m intrigued to meet Casey’s ex. I hastily pick up Sophie’s bottle, trying to save as much of the drink as I can, as she goes flying across the sand. I turn around to see her leap into a man’s arms and my stomach drops like a cable car cut loose.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sam looks as shocked as I feel. For a moment, we stare at each other but Sophie, seemingly oblivious, pulls Sam’s hand, guiding him over to the Iron Age fort, which is crumbling but still standing. A bit like me.

  Sam casts an apologetic glance over his shoulder, and I quickly glance at Casey, who is giving me a weird look.

  I have to think fast. What do I say? What do I do? I decide on: nothing. I have no idea what the hell is going on and I don’t think I should make a scene on the beach, for Sophie’s and Casey’s sake. I’m not feeling too worried about upsetting Sam.

  “Me and Daphne made it,” Sophie is telling her dad.

  “Daphne?” Sam queries.

  “Yes, this is Daphne. Though sometimes she’s called Alice!” Sophie giggles. “And she calls me Cynthia!”

  “Does she?” Sam smiles at me, but I don’t feel like returning the favour.

  “I’m going to have to get going pretty sharpish,” I say to Casey.

  “Oh yeah, you’ve got a date, haven’t you?”

  “I didn’t say it was a date,” I half-snap and she looks taken aback. “Sorry,” I say. “I am meant to be going out but I don’t feel all that great, actually. I might just have an early night.”

  I don’t look at Sam again. I gather my things together and tell Casey I’ll be in touch. Sophie gives me a hug. “What about your cakes?” she asks.

  “Your dad can have them,” I smile at her, turn, and stalk off up the beach.

  By the time I’ve journeyed through the warren of tiny streets, my anger has turned to tears, and my mind is wrapping itself in knots. I want to know what’s going on. I want to ask Sam. But I also don’t want to speak to him, ever again. I get to David’s, tiptoe quietly up the stairs. I don’t want to talk to anybody right now.

  Julie is not in. Her door is shut but it’s completely quiet. I’m pleased. It means I can go into my room, put some music on, and sob loudly for as long as I want.

  Every now and then, my phone vibrates on my bedside table. I ignore it.

  For the first time since I’ve been here, I miss home. I want to be at my parents’. It’s Sunday; they’ve probably had a nice lunch and gone for a walk to blow away the cobwebs. Tears stab my eyes as I think of them and I wish I could just be there, now, and forget all this. My room is a mess; there’s a pile of dirty clothes in one corner, and what little space there is feels stifling and humid in the afternoon heat. There is seagull poo on my window, and the bird I assume is the perpetrator is busily shrieking on the roof just above. Outside, the street is a stream of tourists, sticky with ice cream or wobbly with beer, patting round tummies, full after a lazy, protracted Sunday lunch. They have no worries, I think angrily. Here they are; the couples, the families, wandering smugly along, hand-in-hand, not a care in the world.

  Somewhere out there is Julie, with Luke; and then there is Sam, with Casey and Sophie.

  I know I’m being silly; I know I’m being childish. I don’t care.

  Eventually, after I’ve worn myself out from crying, I take my phone. I slide my finger across the screen and type in the pin code. I can see I’ve missed five calls, and I have seven new text messages. Well, it’s nice to be popular.

  I check the messages first.

  Sam: Alice, I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you all about it tonight. Last night didn’t seem the right time. Xx

  Casey: Hey, let me know if you change your mind bout tonite KCxx

  Sam: I really hope you’re OK. I’m sorry xxx

  Mum: Hi darling, I tried to call just now. I bet you’re at the beach, Dad and I were wondering about coming down for a few days. What do you think? We miss you. Love, Mum xxx

  Sam: Alice, please can you answer your phone? I just want to talk. I’m back home now xxx

  Julie: Are you still at home? Xx

  Sam: I promise I won’t text or ring again. I guess you’re angry. Please can you give me a call when you’re ready to talk? She wants me to have Sophie tonight but I’ve told her I’m going for dinner. I hope this is still correct. I didn’t say who I was going with xxx

  I check my call register: two missed calls from Mum, two from Sam, and one from Julie. I wonder where she is. I’m not ready to call any of them back right now: Mum will know something is wrong just from hearing my voice, and want to know what it is. Julie will be somewhere with Luke, and I am not in the mood for their loved-up happiness. I have no idea what I want to say to Sam.

  I think about Mum and Dad coming down here. I would love to see them. Normally, I see them a couple of times a week; just popping round for a cup of tea, or a meal, or meeting Mum for coffee at lunchtime. It suddenly feels a long time since I’ve s
een them, and aside from Julie they are the two real constants in my world. I miss them. The thought makes me sob again.

  I quickly text back to Mum: Hi Mum, you guessed it! It’s another beautiful day. I would love it if you and Dad can come to visit. I think you’d really like it here. Can I ring you tomorrow and we can sort out when – and I can look into a place for you to stay. There might be room at the Sail Loft for you! I love you, and miss you too. Alice xxxx

  I think Mum will be happy to read that message and that makes me feel a bit better.

  I go into the kitchen and make a cup of tea. Julie’s door is open, which is weird. Has she come back and gone out again without me noticing? I check her room; the window is open so maybe the breeze just blew the door. I make a cup of tea, carry it into the bathroom, and give my face a wash. Then I decide that actually I want a shower. I turn the water on hot, and I pull off my clothes. I think I’ll just get my pyjamas on after this, watch some TV, maybe call out for a takeaway later.

  The water is almost scalding and makes me gasp, but it feels good, washing away the sand from the failed beach outing and soothing the achy, miserable feeling.

  I step out of the shower, leaving wet footprints across the soft green carpet as I walk into my room. I hear the door go downstairs. Is it Julie? No, it sounds like David. I feel relieved. It’s not that I don’t want to see Julie, but the chances are that she is with Luke, and I really don’t want to see him. It wasn’t his place to say about Sam, and Casey, and Sophie, and his loyalties lie with his friend, of course, but I still feel aggrieved that he could have let me go headlong into this without a clue.