A Second Chance Summer

by Katharine E Smith

  After this there is another hymn, and another reading, and then the priest says it is time to make our way to the graveside.

  I walk out of the church; hang back, not wanting to escape but not wanting to get in the way. I will stay for this bit, I think, then go.

  I follow on, and a nice older lady befriends me, telling me how she and May first met at an artists’ group but discovered they had other friends in common, and began walking regularly. She tells me all this with a smile on her face. When she asks how I know May, I say that really it is Luke I know, but that May used to welcome us in when we were teenagers.

  “Oh, yes, she was always welcoming,” the lady says, still smiling. She excuses herself as we near the grave, and walks further towards the front of the people assembled nearby. Clearly a few people have dropped away from the church at this point but there are still many gathered around, to watch the coffin lowered into the ground.

  The sun is relentless; there are no clouds, no places for it to hide. We are all sweating in our dark, smart clothes. There is a fantastic view of the sea from this graveyard – the best view in town, David says - and the water is glimmering away merrily, at odds with the solemn occasion. I listen to the birds in the trees which punctuate the graveyard. They sing heartily, providing a melodious soundtrack.

  I can’t bear the thought of seeing somebody I love so much buried in the ground. But neither can I bear the thought of them cremated. Either way is so final, I just can’t stand it. But lucky me, I haven’t had to, yet.

  The priest speaks a few words and then the coffin is lowered respectfully into its grave. The mourners at the front have their arms round each other, or are clasping each other’s hands tightly. Julie is there, next to Luke; his dad, sister and aunt on his other side, and Sam just behind him. The immediate family take it in turns to scatter earth on the grave, then step back and it is the turn of other mourners. I see Sam step forward, tears streaming down his face, and Julie takes her turn, too. She turns and Luke smiles at her. He is glad she’s there.

  We wait while everybody who wishes to has a moment in front of the grave, then Luke, his sister and his dad turn, and people begin the slow procession away, leaving May in her coffin, to be covered up for good.

  I wait, about to peel away, but I feel a soft hand on my shoulder. It’s Sam. His eyes are red but he’s smiling at me.

  “Alice,” he says. “You’re coming back to the house?”

  “I, I don’t know. I don’t feel like I should. Should I?” I look at him.

  “Of course,” he says, “Luke will be really pleased if you come. He already said he wants people to come and make it a positive event. There are a few who he thinks can’t help but put a negative spin on these things and he doesn’t want that. And you’ve got to come and see May’s paintings, too. They’ve been put up around the downstairs, with a proper display in the conservatory. They’re beautiful.”

  I smile at Sam. “What about Kate, though?” I ask. I realise I’m a bit scared of her.

  “Don’t worry about her!” he says. “She’ll just have to get on with it. I know Sophie would love to see you again.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really!”

  Sam takes my hand, and we walk together through the baking hot churchyard, where the shadows of the trees dapple the ground and the birds stay on, singing to Luke’s mum, keeping her company.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Julie is also pleased to see me at the wake. “Alice!” she hugs me, her eyes red-rimmed. “I am so glad you’re here. I feel outnumbered. And like Luke’s family are suspicious of me.”

  From what I’ve seen, Luke’s family are all extremely lovely, and welcoming towards Julie. I suspect she’s just worrying because of the situation with Gabe.

  “Look, none of them know anything more than that you’re Luke’s lovely new girlfriend,” I reassure her, “which is totally true. You are his lovely new girlfriend. He really loves you, you know.”

  “I know,” she says and the smile on her face tells me she is genuinely happy about that. “Poor Luke.”

  “You’re not that bad.”

  “I mean, because of his mum.”

  “I know,” I nudge her and she smiles at me. “Come on, let’s get a drink, shall we?”

  “Yes, we definitely should. You need to come and see May’s artwork, too.”

  “Oh yeah, Sam said it’s brilliant.”

  “Speaking of Sam, was I imaging things or did you two walk here hand-in-hand?”

  “You weren’t imagining things.”

  “Wow,” she says softly, and we both smile at an old lady who squeezes past us, a small dog looking at us with beady eyes, from the depths of her handbag.

  Luke’s dad is in charge of music and he keeps it upbeat. He and May used to go dancing a lot, and they both loved disco in the Seventies. It might sound a strange choice for a wake, but it works.

  He is never alone, and I wonder if eventually he might prefer a bit of peace and quiet, but he is really the life and soul of the party in the house, filling people’s glasses, reminiscing about May, celebrating her life.

  The younger contingent have taken over the garden. I see Kate out there with Sophie and my stomach tightens slightly but this is not the place or time to be worrying about such things. I walk with Julie into the conservatory, where we admire May’s bright, vivid oil paintings, then into the garden. Kate clocks me straight away and we give each other matching unconvincing smiles but then, “Daphne!” I hear Sophie’s voice and she comes running up to me.

  “Daphne?” Julie asks and I laugh. “It’s a long story.” I catch Kate’s eye and the corner of her mouth curls slightly so I return a wide, genuine smile. Maybe this is the right time to just forget all the negative stuff.

  “How are you, Cynthia?” I give Sophie a hug and she giggles. Sam turns, sees me and Sophie together, and smiles at us.

  I feel I am far too happy for a funeral. But this is what Luke wants, I remind myself. He wants his family and his friends, and his mum’s and dad’s, around him, having a good day. Lifting and carrying him, his dad and sister, for a few hours at least. So this is what we do. We sit together in the sun, and drink wine, and eat until the enormous buffet is reduced to a couple of sad-looking sandwiches and piece of chocolate cake which was dropped and then trodden into the carpet.

  “I will sort all this out,” Julie reassures Luke’s dad, Jim, who puts his hand on her shoulder and a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you,” he says, and looks her in the eye. I can see he means for more than the food and the clearing up.

  People start to head home in the early evening until there are just twenty or so of us left. Luke, Julie, Sam, Jim, Luke’s sister Marie and their aunt Helena, her husband Joseph, and a handful of Luke’s parents’ friends. Kate and Sophie left at about five. Sophie hugged Sam, and me, and gave Luke the biggest hug of all, making him grin. “Careful,” he said, “I’m old and decrepit, you know. You don’t want one of my limbs falling off.”

  “You are not!” Sophie hugged him again and Kate kissed him. She said bye to Sam, and walked past me. I did say bye but I don’t know if she heard me. I’m not too bothered, though; to be honest it was just a relief when she’d gone.

  We sit on the grass, on blankets, or on the garden chairs which have been brought out. The old lady with the small dog in her bag is still here. She sits on a bench, the bag placed next to her and the dog devouring an egg sandwich.

  There is music and wine, and plenty of laughter. As the sun goes down on this heady day, and the solar lights spring to life around the garden, I think that if May can see us now she will be proud, and happy.

  Along with a few of the other guests, I help Julie clear everything up. “I’ll get going soon,” I say. “I guess you’re staying here tonight.”

  “Yes, and we’re going for breakfast to the Cross-Section tomorrow, with Helena and Joseph and Luke’s cousins, and Jim and Marie, of course. If you fancy joining us. Christia
n’s opening up specially.”

  “That’s really nice of him,” I say. “I’m going to be working, though. Otherwise I’d have loved to.”

  With the damp tea towels hung up and the various platters, bowls, plates and glasses stacked neatly on the side, I head into the garden.

  “I’m going to get going,” I say to Luke, and he stands and gives me the most enormous bear hug. It seems a long time since that first hug he gave me when we’d been reunited at the beach party.

  “You take care now,” I tell him.

  “I will.”

  I say bye to his dad, and the other guests. I can’t see Sam anywhere. As I head into the house, though, there he is. Standing in the hallway.

  “Come on,” he says, “I’m walking you home.”

  “You don’t have to,” I say.

  “No, but I want to.”

  “Don’t you want to stay with Luke?”

  “He’s fine,” Sam reassures me. “I told him I’d go when you do. And we’re going for breakfast in the morning, if you’d like to join us.”

  I smile. He offers me his arm. “Let’s go.”

  We walk through the darkened town, and are nearly back at the house when a thought hits me. “Let’s go to the beach.”

  “What, now? In our finery?” Sam laughs.

  “Yes, in our finery!”

  “Alright.” He takes my hand, and we walk together determinedly, not talking much, until we reach the beach by the station. We practically run down the steep steps to the sand, where at the far end there is laughter and the light of a fire. We head the other way, shoes off and quiet.

  “I’ve got something to tell you,” Sam says.

  “I was about to say that!”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, nothing bad, or at least I hope not. Why don’t you go first?”

  “OK, but let’s sit.” He pulls me onto the cool sand. I can hear the waves rolling in the darkness. “I couldn’t tell you before. But I maybe should have. It’s just it’s not exactly my secret to keep. It’s… well, I’ll just tell you. Sophie isn’t my daughter.”

  “She’s… what?” Confusion hits me like I’ve been hit by a breaker.

  “Well, that’s not quite right, either. She is, to all intents and purposes. She is my daughter in that she has grown up with me and I am the only dad she’s ever known. But when I got together with Kate, she was already pregnant. We didn’t know, or at least I didn’t. No, that’s not fair; I am sure Kate didn’t either. But then we did know. And it was either cut and run, or stay and do the decent thing. I couldn’t just dump her because she was pregnant. She needed me more than ever, then. And I don’t think I particularly meant people to think I was the father but they just assumed, and there seemed no harm in it. You were with… Geoff… I had long given up hope of us getting together. And then along came Soph.” His voice softens and I can just see his face, lit by the light of the moon. He is smiling. “She wasn’t my daughter, but she was. And she is. She always will be. The thing is, you mustn’t tell anybody about this. Please. Sophie doesn’t know I’m not her biological dad, and I don’t see any reason to tell her that now.”

  I wasn’t expecting this. I take a moment to think about it. So Sam didn’t tell me he was a dad, and now he’s telling me that he isn’t. But he is. I take a moment to try and digest it all. I wonder if it’s right not to have told Sophie, but I don’t suppose that’s for me to worry about. And no wonder Kate resents me. She’d said, hadn’t she, that she would like to get back together with Sophie’s dad. I presume she meant Sam. I feel sorry for her. But overwhelmingly, I feel so much love for Sam who, at the age of nineteen, took on the worries and pressures of fatherhood unquestioningly. Who stayed in Sophie’s life even after he and Kate had split up and who let people think Sophie was his.

  “Say something,” he says, and I realise I’ve been quiet.

  “Sorry!” I laugh. “It’s just a lot to take in. Are you the most amazing man ever?”

  “No, not at all. And please don’t think I am telling you this to make myself sound good. I just wanted to tell you, because I think we need to be honest with each other. But I have to beg you not to tell anybody else, not even Julie. Luke doesn’t know, even. There’s no need for anybody else to know. Sophie’s the important one here.”

  “Yes,” I agree, “she is.”

  “She’s why I stayed, in Cornwall, I mean. And why I’m doing a regular job, to keep things ticking over. But she’s starting secondary school next year and I’ve been studying so I hope I can make a change in my own life soon. Get back to doing what I love.” He puts an arm around me, and I hear his breath as he rests his head on mine. “I still can’t believe you’re back here,” he says. “I wish you didn’t have to go again.”

  “Funny you should say that, it leads me neatly in to what I have to tell you…”

  I explain to Sam about Bea’s offer, and my new job, and staying on in David’s house. The more I tell him, the more animated he becomes.

  “But that’s brilliant!” he says, kissing me. “You’ll be doing something you love, living in an amazing house and… best of all... you’ll be here! With me!”

  I laugh, and I kiss him, on his mouth. He returns the kiss and we move together until we are lying on the sand, holding each other. Sam’s body is warm and firm against mine. He presses against me and I want to undress him right here and now, run my hands across his smooth back, across the wiry hair of his chest. I feel his breath on my cheek, and his hand on my leg, but his fingers are cold and I shiver.

  “Are you OK?” he asks gently.

  “Yes,” I tell him, “I’ve never been better.”

  Without another word, we get up, picking up our shoes and dusting the sand off our clothes. The moonlight spins a long silver sliver across the sea. Up above us many of the houses in the town are in darkness. I think of Luke and Julie, going to sleep in a house so definitely without May, and of Bea lying in bed, running through the lists of things she must do before she goes to the States. Somewhere on the other side of the estuary, David and Martin will be together and then back into the town, Sophie will be sleeping soundly, I hope; safe in the knowledge she has parents who love her. I think of Kate on her own and I can’t help but hope things work out for her, too. She’s a brave woman.

  Here, on the beach, close together, Sam and I trudge, pressing firm footprints into the sand.

  “I wish we were back at your flat right now,” he says.

  I turn and kiss him. “Me too.”

  “In your bed,” he kisses me back.

  “Or in the bath,” I suggest.

  “Anywhere,” he growls into my ear and my stomach flips. I circle my arms around him and push my fingers in under his shirt, feeling his skin turns to goosebumps at my touch. It is his turn to shiver. “Are you OK?” I ask him.

  “Yes,” he says. “I’ve never been better.”

  “Come on,” I say, and I loosen my grip, “I’ll race you back to my place.”

  I run across the sand, my hair in my face and my breath becoming raw and ragged. I can’t see if there are holes in the sand in the darkness, but I don’t care. I keep on running. I can hear Sam just behind me and I pick up speed, knowing he will follow me. I feel alive, and free, and happier than I have in years. Grinning to myself, I am panting, and a stitch is developing in my side. There’s no way I’ll even make it to the top of the beach at this pace but I don’t care. Right now, in this moment, I just can’t stop.

  Thank you very much for taking the time to read

  A Second Chance Summer. I love hearing what readers think of my books so please feel free to get in touch with your feedback - good or bad (hopefully good)!

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  Acknowledgements

  This is my first crack at something a little more ‘mainstream’ and it was not planned at all. I was working my way through writing a younger readers’ series but, on a family holiday in Cornwall, inspiration struck.

  I owe huge thanks to my team of ace beta readers: Lucy Claire, Katie Copnall, Janet Evans, Stella Leach, Helen Smith, Claire Wells and Kate Williams.

  A special mention to Jenny Armytage who, as well as also being a beta reader, is somebody whose friendship I have been lucky enough to have for twenty-five years now and with whom I spent one sunny week in St Ives in 2001. Although it wasn’t a whole summer, I know we’d have had as much fun as Alice and Julie if it had been – although we would of course have been far better behaved.

  Last, but of course never least, thanks to Catherine Clarke: another person whose friendship I am very fortunate to have, another lover of Kernow, and the artist and designer of yet another cracking cover.

  Book One: A Second Chance Summer

  Book Two: After the Sun

  Book Three: As Boundless as the Sea

  Book Four: Sticks and Stones

  Book Five: Lighting the Sky

  Also by Katharine E. Smith

  Writing the Town Read - Katharine’s first novel - is available for free to readers who sign up to her mailing list.