15. Clover
“Is it time for fireworks on the beach yet? And to go to the bonfire?”
I had a very excited six-year-old who’d already come home hyped up on a day of schooling that had centred around Bonfire Night. His teacher had drummed into the kids how to be safe, which was handy as pretty much all of his class and the rest of the school would be at the bonfire on the beach tonight.
As would I. This year I wouldn’t be driving home from London having just found out I’d been made redundant only to stop and help a non-serial killer who’d broken down on the bridge, was a complete grump and went on to turn my life upside down.
This year I’d be by that bonfire, eating treacle toffee and parkin, and watching the fascinated face of my stepson as he gazed at the sparkler in his hand.
“Yes, fireworks on the beach and we’re leaving in five. Your dad’s going to meet us there.” Because there had been an emergency and he was running late. It happened and we dealt with that. I was working full-time at my job and managing to get Luca to school and back, working out childcare when neither Gray nor I would be available. It helped having friends with kids the same age, as we all helped each other out. Overnight I’d become part of a different community – that of a child-bringer-upper.
Wine helped.
“Wellies on, coat on, hat and gloves.” I yelled up the stairs and hoped the yell translated to something Luca could process, and then dug out my coat from underneath what seemed like every garment Grayson owned.
We could hear the noise from the beach a hundred metres before we got there. The night was clear and cold, no forecast of rain, but there would be a frost in the morning. Moonshine had taken up residence in front of the fire, partly because he was the self-declared God of Warmth, but also because he didn’t like the goats that now lived in our garden.
I wasn’t sure about the goats either. Grayson wanted me to be unsure about the goats, which I knew were an attempt at revenge after he woke up with Moonshine curled up on his head, Moonshine’s tail wrapping around his nose.
He was convinced the cat was trying to kill him.
Sometimes, when Grayson managed to leave the kitchen looking like the contents of several larders had exploded in there, I considered hiring Moonshine as an assassin, but I actually thought Moonshine was in love with Grayson and this was his way of showing affection.
When I’d told Gray this he’d informed me that he was entirely good with his last breath being taken when it was my pussy in his face, as long as it was the right pussy.
As we’d been in public when he’d said that, I hadn’t responded.
The goats had belonged to one of his patients who’d passed away at the grand old age of ninety seven. Gray had been with him, and the man’s dying wish had been for Eliza, Angelica and Peggy to reside somewhere they’d be looked after.
So Gray decided the Schuyler sisters in goat form should live in our garden, which did a really good job of keeping the grass short and scaring Moonshine at the same time.
Luca held my hand as we dropped down to the beach, the bonfire already roaring, and food being given out.
“Can I have a toffee apple, please?” Luca looked at me pleadingly.
“No toffee apples.”
Grayson’s voice from behind me made me jump.
“I thought you were working late?” I frowned, puzzled.
He shook his head. “Things finished up sooner than I thought. And no toffee apples.” He shook his head at Luca. “You’ve three loose teeth – you’ll knock them out. Go and have a hot dog instead. He pointed to where Roe and Gully were on food duty. “Want some hot cider?”
I nodded, happy that he was here and we’d get to watch the fireworks together.
It was three months almost since we’d talked about getting married and having a baby and that conversation hadn’t ended that day. We’d come back to it, especially the baby part, discussing when I should stop taking the Pill and how we’d manage, what Luca would think – he’d gotten very excited about a baby brother or sister when Gray had sounded him out about it. He liked Elias a lot, apart from when he cried and Luca had asked if there was a little brother, whether the baby could live with Gully when the baby cried.
That didn’t seem like a bad idea.
We ate, saw our friends, snuggled Elias and stopped Fleur’s twins from burying each other in the sand. Amelie’s homemade hot cider was consumed, although someone had set up a bucket with champagne in it – for what I didn’t know.
The fireworks started, Thane managing the show as usual. They were set up on a boat about fifty metres out into the sea, which gave everyone a good view and was safer. Luca stood in front of Gray and me, spellbound by the colours and flashes. There was minimal noise, the bangs of the fireworks not good for the local wildlife or our pets, and better for some of the kids too.
Grayson’s arm stayed around mine, the taste of treacle toffee still lingering on my tongue.
“How’s this compared to last year?”
A particularly big shower of colour set the sky alight, four Catherine wheels following.
“Given I could only imagine what this looked like from the Menai Bridge where I was stuck with you, much better.”
“I hope this year will be as memorable.”
There was a pause. No more fireworks filled the sky.
“Is it over? It looks like they’ve stopped.” I looked around; no one was moving away or back inside the Puffin Inn.
“Let’s see.” He moved his arm from around me and I immediately felt colder. I opened my mouth to tell him off and then closed it.
Another set of fireworks launched into the sky, pinks and purples and oranges, but it wasn’t the colour of them that stunned me.
It was the message they spelt out.
Marry Me, Clover.
There was no other Clover in Puffin Bay.
There was only one man on his knee in the sand right now, and he was right next to me, holding open a black box.
The crowd turned around to see their new spectacle – us.
“I’m working on the theory that you’re going to say yes.” He grinned up at me, looking slightly worried, which I’d tell him later and he’d deny.
I nodded, searching for the words but only coming up with one. It was the important one anyway. “Yes. Yes. Yes!”
He stood up, showing me the ring in the box, then hugging me to him which morphed into a kiss, the crowd cheering, someone singing about us being in a tree, which was probably the Holland brothers.
“Let’s get in the pub and you can put this on.” He whispered the words in my ear. “Then everyone knows you’re definitely mine.”
“I think they know that already.” We parted, both of us looking at Luca who was still using someone’s phone to take photos of us.
Grayson bent down and scooped him up. “What do you think?” he said to his son. “She said yes.”
I looked from father to son and back. “Did you know,” I asked Luca.
He nodded. “Daddy told me and told me to keep it secret. From you. Lots of people knew.”
It was clear they did. The champagne was being opened, congratulations were being offered. Amelie was beside herself.
As was the rest of the town, it seemed.
We headed inside so I could see the ring and Grayson could put it on my finger, Freya taking photos, someone else filming it. It fit perfectly, which didn’t surprise me. Grayson had been messing about a few weeks ago, pretending to measure up my finger for a ring and then teasing me to say he’d have to measure again next year.
It had been a good joke.
The ring was not a joke. It was perfect for me, just like the man I would be marrying.
Thane left a few fireworks until later, taking the boat back out when the bonfire was almost just embers.
We stood on the beach and watched until the end, Luca laughing with Mia and Heidi and a new boy who’d just moved to the town with his grandmother. He was going to grow up with friends here, make stories and memories with them, just like Caleb had done with Zoey, who’d snuck in for the bonfire, everyone pretending that they didn’t know who she was.
There’d be another baby for the town soon too, if all went well. Maybe another after that.
I never thought I’d be glad that someone’s car broke down on a bridge, and the driver wasn’t an actual serial killer.
“What was that?”
I realised I’d said it out loud.
“I was just thinking I’m so glad you’re not a serial killer.”
He laughed loudly, turning us round to face each other. “Yeah, I like to think your bar was higher than that.”
“You know how high my bar was. You just crawled under it.” I smirked, knowing how that would annoy him.
“So funny, future wife.”
“Always, future husband.”
We kissed again, another kiss, another first of many more, and one of many, many fireworks.