It wasn’t fair and Alison knew it was time she did something about it. She just didn’t know what. She loved Hallie and Ada with all her heart, but she was tired. She wanted – no, needed – a break. Besides, the twins should spend more time with their mum and dad, just as Alison should with hers.
She put all thoughts of her daughter and granddaughters aside for a moment as she passed Kelsea Wetlands – acres of grasslands, freshwater lakes and saltwater lagoons which provided a haven for birds and other wildlife – and drove along Weltringham Road.
On impulse, she drove past Sanderlings, her parents’ detached red-brick bungalow, and rounded the corner, heading towards the beach.
At the end of the road, she pulled into the little car park and turned off the engine. She needed to breathe in the sea air and shake off the dust of the city.
Alison made her way, with some difficulty, over the mound of grass and sand that formed a feeble barrier between the car park and the beach, and stood, hands on hips, gazing out to sea. The wide-open sky was vast above her, stretching out to meet the horizon where she could see the wind turbines off the coast of nearby Weltringham.
It was one of those crisp, cold, cloudless though blustery January days that made her feel grateful to be alive.
She turned her head to the left, where the crumbling cliffs began. There, the road she’d just driven down ended abruptly – bits of it tumbled into the sea every year thanks to the terrible coastal erosion.
The Tide’s Reach Caravan Park stood just on the other side of the road, and she could see how close to the edge of the cliff some of the caravans were. She thought you’d have to be pretty brave to live in one of those, and surely it was time they were moved to safety. She supposed Gavin would see to it before the park reopened. He’d been fighting the battle against the hungry sea for a long time now, after all, and knew what he was doing.
Bits of concrete rubble still littered this part of the beach, but even so… There was something about this broken beauty that tugged at her heart. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty air, glad to be home. Smiling, she threw out her arms, as if embracing the vast sky and the pounding waves. She felt freer than she had in months.
This tiny village, with no more than thirty residences, filled her with hope and optimism somehow. As she opened her eyes, she felt tears pricking and wasn’t sure if it was emotion that was overwhelming her, or the salty sting of the sea carried on the increasingly gusty wind.
She drove slowly back down Weltringham Road, noting the bare hedges that lined the route, and the trees silhouetted against the blue sky, whose empty branches would, in a few short months, be lush and green and bursting with blossom. Ahead of her lay the Humber – the tidal estuary that fed into the sea. It was fast flowing today – hurried along by the impatient wind. On the other side of the water she could see the green banks of Lincolnshire.
As she pulled up outside Sanderlings, she saw the net curtains twitch, and smiled to herself. She’d known her mam would be waiting at the window, eager for her arrival.
No doubt the kettle would be boiling before Alison had even reached the front door. A broken arm wouldn’t stop her mam from making tea.
She tapped lightly on the window, just to let them know she was about to enter the bungalow – although she had no idea why. Her parents had told her repeatedly not to bother.
‘Not like we’ll be getting up to something, is it?’ her mam had chortled.
Even so, she felt it was the polite thing to do, although she never waited for a response. She pushed open the door into the hallway and, sure enough, she could hear the kettle even from here. The door to the living room was open, welcoming her in.
She took off her shoes, mindful of her mam’s carpets, and headed into the surprisingly spacious room where she found her dad sitting in an armchair staring at a mobile phone.
Alison gaped at him. ‘What areyoudoing with a phone?’ she asked, hardly able to believe what she was seeing.
Her mam had bought herself a phone a few years ago although she hated using it and had never really got the hang of it, preferring to use the landline. Whenever she used it to text Alison, she would always sign it with ‘Love from Mam’ as if Alison wouldn’t know who the text was from, and the messages were as brief as possible.
Dad, though, had refused point-blank to entertain a mobile phone, so to see him sitting there with his eyes fixed on the screen of what looked to be a pretty up-to-date model was a shock.
He briefly glanced up at her and said, ‘Hello, love. You made it, then,’ before his attention switched back to whatever was so exciting on the screen.
Mam bustled into the room. She rolled her eyes and said, ‘Is he still on that thing?’
Alison gently hugged her, aware of the arm that was encased in plaster and nestled in a sling. ‘Surely that’s not Dad’s?’ she murmured incredulously.
‘Oh, it is. After my little fall our Christopher persuaded him to step into the twenty-first century in case of emergencies. That’s Elaine’s old phone but it’s still quite modern. Your father’s hooked. It’s got the internet and everything, although it’s a bit sporadic round here. Ask him what he’s doing. Go on, ask him!’
Alison glanced at her father. ‘What are you doing, Dad?’
He didn’t reply, his fingers jabbing at the screen, his brow furrowed in concentration.
She tried again. ‘Dad?’
He looked up, bemused. ‘What?’
‘What are you doing?’
‘Oh.’ He shrugged. ‘A quiz.’ His gaze lowered again, and Alison turned back to her mother who tutted in annoyance.
