‘Happy birthday, Nelly,’ gushes Aunt Polly as she opens the door. She goes to hug me but sees my wet hair. ‘I see you’ve been for an early morning swim.’
‘It was my birthday, so I thought – why not? The water was lovely, and I swam for ages. I could do with a shower, though.’
She laughs. ‘Come inside, go get freshened up and we will go to The Sailing Boat café for a birthday treat.’
‘Are you sure?’
She nods. ‘The fresh sea air will do me good.’
Once I have showered and washed my hair I come downstairs.
I watch as my aunt surveys my outfit. ‘Nelly, you look great.’
This morning, after I woke up, I put on my swimming costume under my clothes, and I also decided to pack a different outfit for once I’d showered after my swim. I remembered the other evening, of the picnic, standing in front of my mirror and feeling good. I also recall the look Oliver gave me when he saw me step out of my bedroom. I return to the part of my wardrobe I had once closed off after Eva left. My fingers flicked through the hangers. I pulled out a white shirt and some blue jeans, folded them neatly and put them in my bag.
I do feel different standing in my aunt’s hallway, wearing my white shirt and smart blue jeans. I have also let my hair down and not put it into a bun.
It’s a slow walk to the café, but it’s nice as Aunt Polly and I walk arm in arm along the promenade. We make frequent stops to watch the salty waves break on the shore, while excited children race across the golden sand. I recall floating in the sea earlier, watching the sunshine dance on the surface like golden glitter being poured onto blue paint. I remember feeling a sense of relief as I let the sea hold me. I’d seen an upsetting vision on the train, and it had been on my mind as I entered the water; a woman finding her husband in bed with her boss. The water seemed to carry away my sad thoughts. When I got out, I felt lighter and excited about my birthday.
On the last stop, Aunt Polly turns to me with watery eyes. ‘I tried to bake you a birthday cake, but I felt so terrible this morning and…’
‘What is it?’
She puts her hands over her face. ‘I had a disaster. The kitchen is a mess,’ she says through her fingers.
‘You don’t need to bake me a cake, and I’ll clear everything away.’
She takes her hands away and shakes her head. ‘You’re not tidying up the kitchen on your birthday, Nelly.’
I smile at her. ‘I am, and you’re too weak to fight me.’
She laughs and we carry on walking.
We have a lovely time at the café, and Aunt Polly treats me to a cake.
When we return to her bungalow, she groans as I survey the baking disaster zone. The work surfaces are strewn with flour, bits of dough, dirty bowls, utensils, and sat in a tin is a sad-looking cake with a saggy centre.
‘Wow – you have been busy,’ I say, jokingly.
She laughs. ‘Can we never mention this again?’
‘Go and sit down. I will sort this.’
She doesn’t put up much of a fight. I watch her head for the sofa. While she sits and watches TV, I clear away the mess, put the cake in the bin and wash up. As I am putting the clean baking equipment back in her bottom drawer I spot a pile of letters. That’s weird. Why would she keep letters in her baking drawer? I am about to have a closer look when my aunt calls me. ‘Nelly, come in here, I have something to show you.’
Aunt Polly looks up at me as I enter the living room.
I sit down in her armchair and notice a cardboard box. ‘What’s in there, Aunt Polly?’
‘That’s the box of stuff I found at the back of my wardrobe. Remember that photo album I showed you? The one where we both got sad and had to put it away?’
‘What else is in the box?’ I peer into it.
Aunt Polly reaches down to underneath her coffee table and pulls out a little wrapped gift. ‘This was at the bottom of the box. I’ve been saving it for your birthday.’
‘What is it?’ I ask.
She passes me the gift and rolls her eyes. ‘Nelly, it’s a present, and I’m not going to tell you before you open it.’
