It was also one of the first bioluminescence scenes that Iris had seen, the plankton that Caleb could tell us all about putting on a show, even though scientifically, the sea hadn’t been calm enough for long enough, but I’d let him work out why this morning that didn’t matter.
I’d woken just before sunrise for no apparent reason. The storm had blown itself out at around eleven o’clock, leaving us with a houseful of brothers and children, who all passed out around the same time, safe in the knowledge that Mavis was comfortable in hospital, an ambulance having reached her about an hour after I’d left.
I’d gotten out of bed, untangling myself from Iris and Moon, who seemed to be active tonight – probably well awake from her mamma’s stress levels – and headed to the window, seeing the veins of dawn rising.
I’d known then it was going to be a special sort of sunrise. It always was after a storm; the sea would become still again, or as still as it got, its gentle lapping a direct contrast to the previous day. The sand would bare the gifts of the storm, sea-glass and shells and driftwood all left out to dry in the strengthening rays of the sun.
But there was something about the sky this morning, enough for me to wake Iris and kiss her growing belly, murmuring words of apology to my daughter that she’d been disturbed, a kick to my face her thanks.
“Grab something warm. Let’s go down to the jetty.” I threw one of my hoodies onto the bed, mainly because they were big enough to keep Moon warm as well as Iris. Most of my clothes were now co-owned, and I’d accepted the fact that this was always likely to be the case.
We walked hand in hand through the gate and down to the jetty, the lawn sodden with rain, the wetness covering our feet. The air smelled fresh and felt warm, the last kiss of summer promised.
I lay out a couple of blankets on the bench at the jetty, putting a flask of tea and a couple of mugs down between us, then wrapped an arm around Iris and we watched the sunrise, purples and dark blues giving way to soft yellows and pinks and the ethereal green glow of the plankton in the sea, from a stretch that must’ve avoided being tossed by the storm, or some kind of magic had happened.
Maybe it was the latter.
We didn’t speak, just watched as the minutes turned into an hour and then longer, birds waking up around us, joining in the morning chorus now the storm had gone, gulls starting to dance on the sky, chasing each other as they dipped and dived through the air, the morning mist evaporating quickly to expose what was going to be a beautiful day.
Iris took photos because of course she did. I composed sentences in my head and thought about the next book I was writing and how I could incorporate this scene in there, then I came back to the here and now and the woman who was leaning against me, our daughter turning somersaults in her belly.
“Marry me.”
The words slipped out like the day had planned this to happen all along.
Iris turned to me, and I heard her swallow.
“Yes.”
I felt the smile grow so wide on my face it hurt. I turned around to look at her, the same smile meeting mine.
“You said yes.”
She nodded. “Yes. I’ll marry you. I’ve been waiting for you to ask. You kept playing with my ring finger.”
I nodded, pulling her closer, understanding how this moment was one of the most perfect I’d ever have. “I bought you a ring when we were in York. That was why I slipped off.”
“I wondered what you were doing.”
“It was that. I’ll give it to you when we get back in our bedroom.”
Her laugh surprised me. “I’d rather you didn’tgive it to mehere.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, woman. I was being all romantic.” But I laughed, because this was us. This was right. “I’ll give you both when we get back to the bedroom, unless we have a morning visitor.”
“Elias or Elsie?”
“I was going to put my money on Finn, but they’d be more welcome.”
She laughed, her hand on my stomach, curling closer as the sunrise began to fade and let the day have her way.
“Shall we head back? We could slip in before anyone else wakes up.” Her hand went to her belly. “Moon’s dancing again.”
I tucked my hand under hers, feeling the kicks or punches. “She’s busy at the moment.”
“As long as she dances this way and not on my bladder we can stay friends for longer.”
A particularly hard kick came my way. I laughed softly, looking at Iris, a million questions answered with how she returned that gaze. There was one I wanted a spoken answer to. “When do you want to get married?”
