Chapter 1
‘Thank you so much, Doctor O’Hara,’ said the frail, old lady, fractured arm in a sling.
Tara smiled and nodded. ‘Take care, Doris, and remember, no going out without assistance – at least for the next few weeks.’
Sighing with relief that she’d finally finished her shift, Tara made her way off the ward.
On the drive home, Tara’s mood was reflective. Everything was getting harder.Lifewas getting harder. First, it was the general stress and pressure of her job – being a doctor on an A&E ward was certainly taking its toll. Home life wasn’t much of an improvement; being in her mid-thirties and single wasn’t a comforting prospect. Richard, her now ex-husband, had cleared off with his dental assistant Melissa, leaving her to tackle raising their fourteen-year-old son, Calum, with the usual grief teenagers bring their parents. It cut deep that Richard, although seven years her senior and in his early forties, had left her for a much younger woman in her mid-twenties.
Often, Tara would picture Richard and Melissa tucked up nicely in their new detached, state-of-the-art house, raking in a fortune from his dental practice, whilst she was left abandoned after fourteen years of marriage to cope with working full time and bringing up Calum.
It didn’t help that their son seemed to blame her for the split either. The look of contempt he often threw her way was getting tiring now, as was the constant comparison to Melissa, his younger stepmother.
‘Mel’s a good laugh,’ he’d gloat. ‘She’s got time for me, really listens,’ he’d chide.
Then why not live with them? Tara was so tempted to snipe back but never did. She’d hate to lose her son. Richard had chosen the easy life, one that meant he could live exactly as he wanted. He earned a fortune and spent it on his glamorous new wife. He didn’t need to be bogged down with the everyday hassle of a teenage son who moaned, criticised, played music too loud, stayed out late and persistently expected lifts everywhere. No, that was Tara’s job, apparently. Richard just threw money at Calum to ease his conscience and saw him every other weekend. Job done.
As she pulled into the drive, Tara surveyed the beautiful Georgian house before her. It had been a family home since Calum was a toddler. Happy memories flooded her, way back to the very first time she and Richard had clapped eyes on it. It had been Richard who had spotted the house in the estate agent’s window. Pulling her towards him, he pointed it out.
‘Look at that,’ he’d said in awe.
Tara, too, had been smitten with this real Georgian gem, set proudly on a leafy lane in Lancaster. It was a large, detached property made of white stone, and had two matching pillars either side of the front door. It had symmetrical sash windows, a hipped roof and wouldn’t have looked out of place in a period drama. Inside was just as impressive, with its large reception rooms and stunning open-plan kitchen overlooking a huge, landscaped garden. There was plenty of entertaining space, which Tara and Richard had made good use of. They’d often hosted dinner parties with close friends or held family gatherings. She cast her mind back to barbeques in the garden, Richard playing football with Calum as she fussed over the grill; Saturday nights when they shared takeaways, huddled up together in front of the TV; even romantic suppers in the formal dining room when Calum had stayed over at a friend’s house.
Then earlier memories shot into focus, like when they’d first stepped foot into the spacious hall, with its black-and-white chequered tiled floor and glimmering glass chandelier. They’d turned to face each other, trying not to radiate big beaming smiles in front of the estate agent. Richard, ever mindful of money, had given her strict instructions beforehand.
‘Don’t let the agent know you like it. Play it down,’ he’d told her.
It was hard though, when both of them had instantly fallen in love with it.
In the end Richard had (reluctantly) offered the asking price. They had been elated when the estate agent handed the keys over. Their little family of three had stood patiently on the front step, eagerly waiting to enter their new home. Richard turned the key and in they went, their squeals of delight echoing around the large, empty hall. Once Calum had managed to climb the stairs, one hand clasping each spindle on the banister, the other in Tara’s tight grip, he’d chosen his bedroom.
‘Good choice, son,’ said Richard, smiling in approval.
Calum had picked the room next to their master bedroom, overlooking the rear garden and orchard.
Now, as Tara opened the same front door, it was a very different story. No squeals of delight echoing around the hall, only a sad, empty silence. Boxes lay everywhere, filled with her and Calum’s belongings, ready for the removal van. Richard’s belongings had long since gone. Despite Tara’s valiant attempts to keep the family home, it had to go. No way could she afford the mortgage on it, and absolutelyno waywas Richard going to contribute towards it either. In fact, Richard had made it blatantly clear just how much he actually was prepared to contribute. Nothing, if he had his way. Not only had it been up to Tara to fight for her and Calum’s family home, but forsubstantial maintenance too. The first she’d been unsuccessful with, the second was an ongoing battle.
The injustice of it all still stung Tara. Especially given what she’d sacrificed. She was the one who had put her career on hold, while Richard had built up a successful, thriving practice. It was Tara who had been constantly there for Calum, attending football matches, school productions and parents’ evenings, while Richard had poured more time, energy and money into his business.
What hurt Tara the most was Richard’s treatment of their son. The blasé way he went in and out of his life. Yes, she accepted that she and him were never going to be friends, but Calum was the innocent in all this. The only person Richard had any real time for was his new wife. Although Calum seemed to enjoy staying with them, it was only every other weekend. This, to Tara, was grossly inadequate, given they didn’t live that far away. She could only assume Melissa was behind it all, wanting at least one child-free weekend.
So, here they were, all packed up. Their possessions neatly boxed away, ready and waiting to be carted to another place. Their next home. This was the only thing that was keeping Tara going. She had recently bought a fabulous apartment in Samphire Bay. The location had long been a favourite of hers. The Lancashire village of Samphire Bay sat nestled just beneath the border to Cumbria, offering sheltered walks along limestone paths and amongst woodland, leading to open views of sandy beaches and glittering water. It was an intriguing and unusual place, with a windswept peninsula between the mouth of the river and bay, which at times was cut off by the tide. It had had a lot of coverage in the press several months ago, as the famous actor-cum-director, Felix Paschal, had bought the huge art deco house there.
Tara’s apartment was one of a few that had been renovated from an old country house. The grand Victorian building looked most imposing, standing proudly flanked by tall fir trees. An ‘Augusta House’ sign hung from the cast iron gates by the entrance, which was operated by each resident’s fob. It was all very sleek, classy and secure. The apartment had two decently sized bedrooms and a small balcony with a stunning view of the bay. Instinctively, Tara knew it was the place for her and Calum. What they lacked in garden the scenery made up for. In a nutshell, it was perfect. A fresh start.
‘Hi, Calum, I’m home!’ Tara shouted up the stairs. She could hear his music playing. It soon turned off and Calum came bounding down.
‘Hi, Mum. What’s for tea? I’m starving,’ he groaned.
Tara smiled to herself. He was always starving, constantly eating. Mind you, she thought, he was definitely growing. Puberty had well and truly kicked in, giving her son a healthy appetite, as well as attitude. It was Friday, what the hell.
‘Fancy a takeaway?’ she asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.
‘Result!’ cheered Calum, giving her a high-five.
Tara loved this interaction, the easy way they rubbed along, when he wasn’t being a difficult teenager. She knew he had reservations about leaving his childhood home, but she’d sold the new apartment in Samphire Bay very well to him. She’d even relented and allocated him the best bedroom with the balcony and view. It would be worth it though, anything to make their move as seamless as possible.
