Meg arrived at the coastal walk before Stu. She parked in the little car park and looked out towards the sea, thinking of the days when this was the view she saw every day. But the past was the past, she told herself firmly. If there was one thing she had learned over the past few years, it was that life kept changing and you have to change with it. Meg felt she was spectacular at changing. And now this huge change, remarrying Stu. Today she was picking up the dress and the girls were coming with her. She wanted a morning with just her girls, even though Vonnie had looked like a slightly sad puppy when Meg had said this.
‘I just want it to be me and the girls, Vonnie,’ Meg had said. ‘You do understand?’
‘Course I do,’ said Vonnie, ever amiable, ‘course I do. You know me: I’m just a big child. I love being in the centre of everything, but this is for you and the girls. You should have a nice breakfast first and then go in and try on the dress and bring it home. Oh, it will be wonderful.’
‘We can’t have breakfast,’ Meg had explained, ‘because Savannah has to go into the office, and Eden has a few appointments.’
‘They’re so busy all the time,’ said Vonnie wistfully. ‘Big jobs.’
‘I know,’ said Meg, ‘but we can be proud of them, can’t we?’ She gently included Vonnie in the sentence. Vonnie didn’t have daughters and instead had two sons. One of whom was an incredibly hard-working physiotherapist and the other was often prone to the same bad back as his father. He lived with his girlfriend just down the road and she was expecting their first baby.
‘Yes,’ said Vonnie, ‘we can; our girls.’
Vonnie would have loved a girl, Meg knew this. Dressing a little girl would have fulfilled all Vonnie’s own missed childhood fantasies. Meg wondered if adults always tried to recreate their own missed past with their children. Perhaps they did.
Her mother had been strong and powerful, but a little straight-laced. So, she’d been different with her girls, more relaxed. You couldn’t have got more relaxed than raising them in the Sorrento Hotel. Her daughters had blossomed there, grown from toddlers to skinny girls, to pouting adolescents, into young women. Having the run of the place, helping out, cleaning, cooking. It had been a very different sort of childhood to her own. But it had turned out well. They were beautiful women and she adored them.
‘Thinking of me?’ said a voice.
She turned around to see Stu peering in the open window at her. He was wearing his old straw sun hat, one he’d worn for walks on the beach since time immemorial.
He was dressed in a white linen shirt over beige shorts. He was tanned and looked happy.
Meg unwound herself from the car and could feel Stu’s eyes on her which was pleasing, nice that she could still make him watch her, she thought. She wouldn’t have married him otherwise, not if he was indifferent to her. She knew too many people whose marriages had moved long ago from intimacy into some sort of mutual sticking together for the sake of it. Meg, had never wanted that. She was marrying Stu because she loved him, cared for him, desired him. And she knew he felt the same.
‘You look beautiful, darling,’ he said, his lips briefly meeting hers.
‘Oh this old thing,’ teased Meg. She was wearing a dress he probably hadn’t seen before, a sleeveless one that showed off her tanned shoulders. It was a turquoise colour that made her eyes stand out and made her beautiful long silvery plait look even more exotic. Round her neck she had wound some turquoise beads and on her feet she wore sensible runners for the walk.
‘I can’t believe it,’ said Stu as they strolled down the beach holding hands. ‘To think we’re doing it again.’
‘You’re not having second thoughts, are you?’ she asked. ‘I have to know.’
‘No, don’t be ridiculous.’ Stu let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m crazy about you, crazy. Are they going to do that bit, if anyone here has any reason why these people can’t marry?’
‘I don’t think so; that’s more of a church ceremony thing,’ said Meg, laughing. ‘We’re not getting that experience with the civil ceremony but we can ask for that, if you want, in case you’re hoping that some of my old lovers will appear.’
Stu grinned. ‘Are there any lamp posts I need to piss on,’ he said, ‘just to show that you’re mine?’
‘No, darling,’ said Meg, ‘no lamp posts; you’re mine and I’m yours. Besides, I’m the one who should be looking for lamp posts, you old charmer.’
‘Ha!’ His arm moved from her shoulder and slid round her waist this time. ‘You’re the only woman for me – always were, Meg, even if I was a bit wild on occasion.’ He turned her around and they were facing each other.
Meg could hear the lapping noise of the water against the beach as Stu kissed her. There was something about being with a man who could kiss. Stu had always been the most amazing kisser. His mouth made every part of her body sing and she arched towards him. Her eyes opened; he was watching her almost lazily.
‘I know we’re supposed to be doing a walk,’ he said, ‘but do you fancy …?’
Meg grinned. ‘I fancy,’ she said, ‘I do fancy.’ She slipped a hand inside his shirt, caressed his chest, reaching over to touch his nipple.
He jerked and laughed.
‘Still sensitive there?’ she said.
‘As if you didn’t know.’
‘I think it’s been two weeks since we’ve been to bed together,’ said Meg.
‘You’ve been busy and I’ve been busy. It’s not that we planned it,’ said Stu, sounding slightly affronted.
