Chapter 2
It was only twenty-four miles from her home to Kelsea Sands, but it still took Alison nearly an hour to get there, and that was going by the quickest route.
Sometimes, if the weather was good and she had lots of time to spare and the mood took her, she’d go a longer way round, via Sunk Island, to gaze at the little boats at Stone Creek and look out over the Humber to Lincolnshire.
Across the water she could see the Port of Immingham.
With its cranes and chimneys and bustling activity it seemed a million miles away from this little haven of tranquillity.
It was a good place to walk along the riverbank, breathe in the fresh air and relax.
Today, though, she had no time for relaxing. Her mam and dad were expecting her and, despite her objections, had informed her they were taking her to The North Star for Sunday dinner.
She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been in the pub, even though it was only a few minutes’ walk from her parents’ home.
When, she wondered, had life got so hectic?
When Hallie and Ada had started school she’d assumed that she wouldn’t be needed so much for babysitting, but Jenna had begged her to take the twins to school on the mornings she wasn’t working an early shift at the petrol station, and then she’d asked if Alison could pick them up afterwards and maybe take them home with her for a couple of hours because Jenna had so much work to do and it was far easier to get on with it while the twins weren’t around.
Alison worked alternate Saturdays and Sundays and her weekend days should have been sacrosanct as Jenna, who was also a teacher, didn’t work then and Joel only worked every other weekend at the large IT company he’d been with since leaving college, but somehow they both seemed to find things that needed doing.
Joel was working overtime. He had a conference to attend.
He was on a training course. Jenna had a pile of marking to get through.
She had lessons to plan. She was feeling absolutely exhausted, and would Mum really mind… ?
Somehow it had become normal. It was what happened. Jenna and Joel worked hard. Alison did the lion’s share of the childcare, whether the girls were at school or not.
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 are you doing 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.
‘Would you believe, he’s answering a load of questions to find out which rabbit he’d be if he was a character in Watership Down? I ask you!’
‘Oh, Dad!’ Alison couldn’t help but smile. After all his criticisms of other people using their phones too much he’d gone and fallen for that!
‘Cup of tea, love?’ Mam asked. ‘Or would you prefer coffee? Mind, I haven’t got one of them fancy machines like you have,’ she warned, as she did every time Alison visited.
‘Tea’s fine, but I’ll make it,’ Alison said, ignoring her mother’s protestations that she was perfectly capable.
‘It would be your right hand,’ she said, eyeing her mother worriedly as she reached for the teabags. ‘How are you managing, really?’
‘No problem at all,’ Mam said cheerfully. ‘I mean, it’s a bit tricky doing some things, but I’m getting the hang of it. When you think about it, it’s a blessing really. I’m learning to use my left hand after all these years. Never too late to learn a new skill.’
Trust her mother to look on the bright side, Alison thought, as she headed to the fridge for milk. You couldn’t keep her down for long. She wished she’d inherited a bit of her parents’ resilience.
Although not allowed to make the tea, Alison’s mam soon dug out the biscuits and insisted on carrying the tin into the living room. Alison put a mug on the nest of tables beside her dad’s chair just as he put his phone away with a sigh.
‘I’m Bigwig,’ he said. ‘Is that good?’
‘No idea,’ Mam replied. ‘I’ve never watched it.’
‘Don’t you know, Dad?’ Alison asked, amused.
‘How would I know? I’ve never watched it either.’
‘Not read the book?’ she asked cheekily.
He frowned. ‘Why would I read a book about bloody rabbits? I’m not six!’
‘Ignore him and have a custard cream,’ Mam said, reaching for a biscuit from the tin she’d brought in.