Chapter 16
Jasmine was busy working in her garden studio admiring the view of the bay. Although it was too cold to enjoy a morning swim, she still absorbed the beauty of the clear, still water surrounded by smooth, white dunes. She smiled at a young family who were walking along the shoreline. Two small children ran ahead whilst the parents lagged behind. Mum and Dad were obviously letting them run off pent-up energy, she laughed to herself.
Jasmine turned back to the laptop to finish off the book cover she was working on. She had a tight deadline to meet and had to get it finished today. However, her eyes kept glancing up at the family on the beach, distracting her. The parents had now caught up with their offspring and were lifting them in the air. She watched them giggle in delight and a sudden yearning swamped her. Like radar, she homed in on their cute little bobby-hats and mittened, tiny hands and aneedfilled her body.
It was an unfamiliar sensation and one which had struck unexpectedly, but it was very real. I’m broody, thought Jasmine, a touch shocked. Since her late husband’s death, Jasmine’s body had only recently recovered. The cataclysmic trauma it had endured meant that her monthly cycle hadn’t functioned as it should. She had sought medical advice, thinking there was a serious problem, but had been reassured it was just her body’s natural response and that, in time, everything would operate as it should. And, thankfully, it had.
Meeting Robin had helped enormously, plus her move to Samphire Bay. Often she would reflect on the days with Tom in their narrowboat, but instead of crying she now smiled at the memory. Maybe this broody feeling was the next stage? Was she ready to move on to another chapter of her life? And what would Robin think about all this? Jasmine realised it was too early in their relationship to consider a baby. She wasn’t being rational.
Her gaze followed the family on the beach as they wandered back. The children were clearly tired now as they sunk into their parents’ arms, heads resting on shoulders. She sighed and tried to focus on work.
Her concentration was interrupted by the buzz of her mobile. It was Robin.
‘It’s officially the weekend,’ he declared cheerfully, ‘and it’s time to stop working.’ He and Jack had called it a day and were in good spirits. Both of them richly deserved a break, having laboured constantly on the warehouse renovation.
‘Not for me,’ replied Jasmine regretfully.
‘Oh, come on, Jasmine!’
‘I’ve a deadline to meet,’ she moaned.
‘In an hour then? I’ll bring you lunch,’ coaxed Robin.
She smiled. ‘Okay then, thanks.’
‘See you soon.’
For the first time ever, Jasmine resented her work. She begrudged having to apply herself when really all she wanted was to just close her laptop and enjoy the weekend like everyone else.
Robin, in an attempt to cheer Jasmine up, decided to make a real effort with lunch. He called at the local shop and bought sandwiches, a selection of cheeses with biscuits and a bottle of prosecco. Within an hour he was bringing it all to Jasmine.
‘Time to stop work and relax,’ he announced and began laying out the food on her desk.
‘Yes,’ she agreed, laughing, ‘it is.’ Finally she’d finished the book cover and sent it off to the editor. Job done. Now it was time to relax. ‘I’ll open this.’ She grabbed the bottle of prosecco with relish.
Bunty, having decided to pop the question to Perry, was in a bit of a quandary. How to do it? She knew where to propose – aboardThe Merry Perry, his most beloved place – but should she ask after a romantic candle-lit dinner, or when they were happily sailing along the canal? And how, by getting down on one knee? She snorted at the thought, doubting she’d manage to get back up again.
It was his birthday coming up. She’d bought him a lovely card, not too gushy, but very tasteful, with the words ‘To someone special’ on the front, along with his favourite aftershave and an Aran jumper. Then an idea came to her. Why not write,Will you marry me?inside his card? Yes, she grinned to herself, that would surprise him.
It was hard to contain herself, knowing what she had planned. Perry had sensed a change in her.
‘Why are you acting so… odd?’ he’d asked.
‘What do you mean?’ she casually replied.
‘All edgy?’ He frowned.
‘Must be excited for the holiday,’ she breezed.
In truth, she really was looking forward to their mini break. It would be a holiday to remember and cherish. She recalled previous holidays with her father, which basically consisted of her tending to his every need, as usual. There was very little in it for her, apart from a change of scenery. One particular holiday resonated, the French Riviera, where he’d taken her to get over Perry leaving Samphire Bay. It hadn’t worked.
Taking a deep breath, she poured a large gin and tonic. Instead of looking out to sea, as she usually did to calm herself, she turned to a picture painted by her father on the wall. It depicted her as a toddler, playing in the sand. She put her glass down, walked towards it and removed it from the wall. She didn’t want to see herself through her father’s eyes any more. Instead, Bunty replaced it with a framed photograph of Perry, at the tiller of his boat, smiling broadly into the camera, eyes crinkled with joy. She couldn’t change the past, but she could damn well choose her future.
