My Summer of Magic Moments: Uplifting and romantic - the perfect, feel good holiday read!. Caroline Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ never got out of that place, and she owed it to them to make the best of this life she’d been given back.

      Claire had the feeling that change was about to happen, but she didn’t know quite how yet, which way things were going to go. All she knew for sure was that she couldn’t waste the rest of this life, this new chance.

      Yes, she was beginning to find her feet, though life still seemed a little wobbly at the moment. She must hold on to the fact that she’d been given the all clear, or as clear as they could promise for now. And for now was a good enough place to start.

      It was still dark outside – she could see from the crack in the curtains. It must be the early hours of the morning. She should try and get some more sleep, but her head was way too busy. She’d get up and make a cup of camomile tea.

      Venturing downstairs, she popped the kettle on and waited for it to come to a boil in the cranky kitchen. After steeping the teabag, she took her mug through to the lounge. She didn’t bother to put the light on. It was peaceful standing there just gazing out at the night sea, the silver flickers on the crests of waves under the light of a crescent moon. The warmth from the mug in her hands was calming.

      She thought she saw a glimmer of light flick on, then off, possibly from the cottage next door? Maybe she wasn’t the only one up at weird hours in the night. She’d put the light on in the kitchen – had that disturbed him? After all, it was three a.m. Oops, he might be an even grumpier neighbour tomorrow.

      Claire woke up groggy after her restless night. Tea on the balcony time.

      Huddled in her dressing gown, she went downstairs to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Crikey, even in summer it was chilly in this place. She hadn’t spotted a radiator or any kind of electric heater yet, just the real fire in the lounge. Thank heavens she hadn’t booked a winter break.

      While the tea was brewing, she spotted a few tattered books on the kitchen shelf – recipe books; there was one on baking bread. She took it down and flicked through a few pages. She’d always been partial to a bit of armchair baking, watching the trials, tribulations and fabulous creations on The Great British Bake Off. Maybe she should give it a go. She had plenty of time on her hands. And that loaf from the deli yesterday was scrummy; she wondered if it was hard to make?

      She took the book out with her. She enjoyed a cup of Earl Grey on her upstairs balcony in the rickety yet comfy deckchair. And pondered what to do with her break. How was she going to make the best of her time? A list started forming in her mind. Yes, she was meant to be relaxing, but she couldn’t help being a ‘to-do list’ kind of girl. Hmm, the first thing she fancied was a hot, deep and very bubbly bath.

      So, number 1: Soak in a hot, bubbly bath.

      What next? Hmn, yes, number 2: Sip a glass of chilled white wine with the sun on her face, the sound of the sea, and a lovely view. Perfect. She just needed to go and buy the bottle of wine.

      Number 3 (she was getting into the swing of this now): Watch the world go by for a while and hopefully listen to the sound of children’s laughter – there were bound to be some kids on the beach at some point. That was always guaranteed to make you smile.

      And if she was desperate for company later in the holiday, it would be lovely to invite her two small nephews up for the day. They always made her smile too. She remembered them finding her prosthetic bra insert when she’d stayed over at her sister’s house after the mastectomy. She’d slept in her younger nephew Ollie’s bedroom overnight, and he and Jack had spotted the mystery item lying on the bedside table the next morning. They’d been fascinated and had decided to use it as a Frisbee, chucking it around the room – she’d come back from the shower to find them mid-throw. Her sister, Sally, had been mortified and gave them a right telling-off, but Claire had seen the funny side – they were just kids playing. She’d ended up laughing until it made her sore.

      Number 4: make some homemade bread. Yes, she’d have a go at that. So along with the wine she’d need to pick up some bread-making ingredients.

      Number 5: watch that gorgeous (if grumpy) guy next door get naked again. She’d have to be alert early in the mornings, just in case. So, he might be a bit unsociable, but that didn’t stop a girl wanting to take a look. But, there was no sign of Mr Gorgeous-but-Grumpy’s toned naked butt on the beach this morning, though. Shame. Perhaps knowing that she was there next door had put him off. Bloody empty gas bottles. If she hadn’t had to knock on his door, he might never have realized she was there, and the morning swims might have continued, brightening her day. She vowed to be alert during her stay in case, however.

      Number 6: dance in the rain. She wasn’t sure where that idea came from, but it seemed like a nice, carefree thing to do. When it next started to pour down (and, being Northumberland, that might not be long), she’d head out onto the sands and do a jig – just because she could.

      Number 7 (she was on a roll now): make a new friend. Someone here in Bamburgh. The lady in the deli came to mind; she seemed nice and chatty.

      Number 8: what else made life feel good? A cup of tea, a glass of wine (already got that), cocktails. Hmm, yes, before all the treatments she’d been partial to the odd mojito in Bella’s Bar with Andrea down at the quayside in Newcastle, but maybe not now. Sex on the beach, now where did that thought come from? But not the cocktail, oh no, the real deal. Wow! That would be pretty cool and extremely sexy – or gritty and sandy, but worth a try. But, that could prove difficult to achieve, since she was staying here on her own and indeed she didn’t actually intend to have anything to do with men for quite some time. One day, maybe. Never say never. Her list could carry forward!

      Number 9 wasn’t forthcoming, so she decided to leave that and number 10 to be confirmed. There was no point wasting wishes till you knew what you wanted.

      She wondered if there was a post-cancer wish fairy. Like a tooth fairy. You lost a boob and got a few wishes for it. Wow, how did her brain come up with this stuff?

      Actually, thinking of her list, maybe she should be less selfish and wish everyone she loved or knew good health, bucketloads of happiness and some magic moments for themselves. That could be number 9 sorted after all.

      She sipped her tea and leafed through the bread recipes; they didn’t look too daunting, and the ingredients wouldn’t be expensive. That was one thing she could definitely do today. And next – no time like the present – she’d take a leisurely bath.

      She left the balcony and headed for the bathroom, where she turned the taps to full. At least there seemed to be plenty of hot water today. She poured in some of the Molton Brown bubble bath she’d saved from Christmas, removed her robe, trying not to look at her scars, and sank below the surface to chin level, bubbles of fragrant ginger-lily bursting lightly around her. Bliss. She should be drinking bubbles in here too, sipping a chilled glass of champagne – but the budget didn’t stretch to that. Still, maybe she could pop along to the everything-and-more store in the village for that bottle of white wine for later. She’d be ticking off her wish list at a rate of knots!

      She reached for the baking book, topped up the hot water and lost herself in a world of ‘00’ flour, rosemary focaccia, and stone-baked crust. She emerged after forty minutes pale and prune-like, but relaxed and content.

      Half an hour later, armed with rucksack and cagoule, she set off up the beach again. The clouds were gathering dramatically on the horizon, a shaft of grey cutting down to the sea where the rain was sheeting offshore; definitely a sunshine and showers kind of day. She’d head for the deli – they’d hopefully have the flour and yeast she needed. She could picture herself kneading away in СКАЧАТЬ