On the Brink of This Summer While working in a small-town library, Dana felt her life was painfully dull—there were barely any visitors these days, since everyone was online. Most days she spent shuffling books on dusty shelves, her only comfort the endless novels and philosophy tomes she devoured. By thirty, Dana realized that all the romance she read about in books had utterly bypassed her own life. Her age was “respectable,” as her mother put it, and it was high time to think of starting a family. Not that her modest looks, low-paying job, or general inertia helped matters; she’d never seriously thought of changing things up. The only visitors at the library were the odd student, a stray pupil, or an elderly pensioner. Recently, though, she’d been entered—quite unexpectedly—into a county-level professional competition, and, to her own astonishment, had won the grand prize: a fully-paid, two-week seaside holiday. “That’s fantastic. I’m definitely going!” she announced to her mum and best friend, beaming. “It’s not like my salary could ever pay for something like this—just pure luck!” As summer faded, Dana walked along the deserted shore. Most holidaymakers hid in cafés, as the sea was unusually wild that day. It was only her third day at the sea and she’d wanted a little solitude to wander the beach, contemplate, and daydream. Suddenly, she spotted a boy swept off the pier by a crashing wave. Not thinking twice, and despite never being a strong swimmer, Dana raced into the water—thankfully not far from shore. The waves helped and hindered in turns, but she managed, half-standing in the surf, to drag the boy to safety. Gasping and soaked, her summer dress clinging ungracefully to her skin, Dana checked on the teenager—tall for his age but surely no more than fourteen. “What on earth possessed you to swim in this weather?” she scolded gently, relieved as he wobbled to his feet and mumbled his thanks before heading off shakily, leaving Dana bemused. The next morning, sunshine glittered over the rippling waves. Dana, in much brighter spirits, wandered once more to the shore, basked in the warmth, then, nearer sunset, took a stroll through the park, stopping by the shooting gallery. She hadn’t fired a shot since her school and uni days—missed wildly with her first, but nailed the second. “Oi, look here, son, that’s how it’s done!” came a cheerful voice. Turning, she saw yesterday’s boy—and the man beside him, presumably his father, smiling warmly. The boy—Zhenya—seemed startled to recognize Dana, as if worried she might mention his mishap, but she only smiled knowingly. “Maybe you’d give us a masterclass?” the tall, amiable father—Anton—asked, chuckling as he introduced himself and his son, admitting neither was much good at these amusements. The three spent the evening together, sampling ice creams and riding the Ferris wheel. Dana wondered if Zhenya’s mother might join them, but neither father nor son seemed to expect anyone else. Anton proved wonderful company—curious, witty, and easy to talk to—and with every moment, Dana found herself drawn to him. “And how long’ve you been on your holidays here, Dana?” Anton asked as the sun dipped lower. “Just a week so far. I’ve got another to go! Where are you from?” “A bit funny, really—same city as you!” Anton laughed and soon the three were sharing stories about home. That night, as they said goodbye, father and son walked Dana back to her hotel, arranging to meet again at the beach the next day. She arrived early. Her newfound friends were late, nearly an hour so. “Good morning, Dana!” called Anton. “I’m terribly sorry, honestly—we just plain overslept. Forgot to set the alarm!” “Dad, I’m off for a swim!” Zhenya declared, running towards the surf. Dana’s heart leapt. “Stop! You can’t swim!” “Can’t swim?” Anton looked puzzled. “He’s a champion at school! Won swim meets and everything…” She blinked, embarrassed—had she imagined his struggle? Or had something else been troubling him… With evenings spent strolling or lingering over seaside fish and chips, their days together grew idyllic. Dana sensed Zhenya was troubled and longed for a chance to speak with him privately. That chance finally came—Zhenya arrived alone at the beach, informing her his father was ill in bed with a fever. After some friendly prompting, Zhenya thanked her for keeping his earlier accident secret. He admitted the waves had caught him off guard—he really did panic, just that once. Dana hesitated, then gently asked about his mum. Zhenya, after a moment, quietly confided: things at home weren’t easy. His parents’ marriage—a picture of happiness—had been slowly falling apart. When his father travelled for work, his mother spent more and more time with a colleague; eventually, her infidelity led to divorce and she left. Zhenya opted to stay with his dad—he didn’t care for his mum’s new partner or their daughter, Kira. He was angry, but loved his father fiercely, relieved to be away together by the sea. A few days later, when Anton recovered, they made the most of their remaining time—excursions, banter, lazy days in the sun. But soon, summer would end. Anton and Zhenya’s coach drew near; Dana had two days left, and they promised to meet again at home. Anton said he’d pick her up from the airport; Zhenya grinned with approval. Though Dana dared not plan too far ahead, her heart soared with each affectionate message from Anton, counting down days until their reunion. And soon—much to Zhenya’s delight—Dana found herself moving into their comfortable flat, feeling like, at the edge of that unforgettable summer, she’d finally walked into the pages of her own long-awaited love story. On the Brink of This Summer

At the Edge of This Summer

Working at St. Albans Public Library, Id always thought my life was rather dull. These days, few visitors wander inmost people find whatever they want online. I often found myself rearranging bookshelves, dusting covers, finding comfort amongst the stories I loved. The only real perk was that Id read an unimaginable number of booksromances, philosophy, you name it. By the time I turned thirty, though, I realised that romance had passed me by entirely.

I was a decent age, really ought to have started a family, but I had plain looks and a low-paid job. Changing jobs had never crossed my mind; things felt secure enough, and besides, only students, the odd schoolchild, and pensioners ever came in.

Some weeks back, there was a professional contest in the county, and quite unexpectedly, I won the first prizea two-week paid trip to the seaside.

How wonderful! Im absolutely going, I told my friend Sarah and Mum, delighted. On my wages, I could never afford a holiday like this. It feels like happiness just fell into my lap.

Summer was nearing its close. I wandered along the quiet Brighton beach, most holidaymakers hiding in the cafés since the sea was wild today. It was my third day at the coast, and I fancied a lonely stroll, to think and daydream a bit.

Suddenly, I saw a boy swept off the pier into the water by a rogue wave. Without a thought for myself, I dashed into the surf to help. Thankfully, he wasnt far from shore, and even though I wasnt much of a swimmer, Ive always managed to stay afloat.

The churning waves helped me drag him by his collar landwards, and then suddenly pulled us back out, but I managed to persevere, soon plant my feet where the water reached my chest. I just had to keep my balance. At last, I managed to pull him back.

Standing there in my favourite dress, completely soaked and clinging to me, I glanced at the lad and was surprised.

Hes just a teenager, no more than fourteen, though tall and actually a bit taller than me, I thought, before asking, Why on earth were you swimming in weather like this?

But the boy simply thanked me and stumbled away without another word. I just shrugged and watched him disappear up the beach.

The next morning, I awoke in my hotel room with a smile. The weather was glorious, the sun beamed onto a sparkling sea that softly murmuredunlike yesterdays tempest. It felt as if the sea was somewhat apologetic for the previous days aggression.

After breakfast, I wandered down to the beach, stretched myself out in the sun, then, as evening approached, strolled through the leafy town park. I spotted a fairground shooting stall and went in. I used to be a fair shot at school and university, though my first attempt missed the target. The second one hit dead-on.

Look, son, thats how you ought to be shooting! said a jocular voice behind me. Turning in surprise, I recognised yesterdays boy.

Fear briefly flickered in the boys eyes as he noticed me. I quickly realised his father had no idea about the incident. I smiled gently.

Perhaps you could show us how its done properly, suggested a tall, friendly man the boys father, Mark. Neither I nor Jack here are very good at it, to my shame! he said with a warm grin.

After our time at the shooting stand, we walked together through the park, then sat at a café, eating ice cream, ending the evening with a ride on the Ferris wheel. At first, I wondered if Jacks mother would join us, but neither of them seemed expectant nor in any rush.

Mark, as he introduced himself, turned out to be a fascinating companion, knowledgeable in so many things, and I found myself liking him more by the minute.

How long have you been here, Mary? he asked.

Just my first week. Ive got another week left, I replied.

Where are you from, if you dont mind me asking?

To my amazement, it turned out that Mark and Jack were from the same town as me. We all burst out laughing.

Imagine thatunable to meet in St. Albans, but here, hundreds of miles from home, we bump into one another, Mark grinned. He seemed to really enjoy my company.

Jack soon joined in the conversationhe seemed at ease now, realising I wasnt about to tell his father about yesterdays close call. We parted late, after Mark and Jack had walked me back to my hotel, agreeing to meet at the beach in the morning.

I arrived first at the beach; my new friends were nearly an hour late.

Good morning! I heard Mark call breezily. Do forgive us, Mary, we simply forgot to set an alarm and overslept.

Dad, Im off for a swim! yelled Jack, dashing into the water.

Suddenly I called after him, Wait! Youre not a strong swimmer.

What do you mean? Mark replied, surprised. Jacks won medals in the school galas.

Puzzled, I kept my thoughts to myselfmaybe yesterday was just a one-off. As I soon learnt, they were staying in the hotel just next door to mine.

Those remaining days at the coast were like something out of a storybook. We met every morning on the beach, parted late at night, and even took little excursions. More and more, I longed to chat to Jack in private; I sensed he was troubled. Or perhaps I was imagining things. Over time, I discovered that Mark and his son had the room next to mine.

The chance arose when Jack came to the beach alone one morning.

Hello. Dads not wellhas a temperature, he volunteered. I begged him to let me come out and said youd keep an eye on me, he said with a sheepish grin. Hope thats alright, but I just didnt want to be stuck in the room all day.

Jack, could I have your dads number? Ill give him a ring. He dictated the digits.

Good morning, Mark answered wearily. Its not the best morningseems Ive caught something. Please keep an eye on Jack for mehes promised hell listen to you

Get better soon, Mark, dont worry, Ill keep him out of trouble. Hes bright and nearly a grown-up anyway. Ill pop by later, I promised.

After a swim, Jack lounged next to me and suddenly announced, You know, you really are a good friend.

Whats prompted that, then? I asked, smiling.

Thanks for not telling Dad about yesterday. I honestly just got swept off the pier by a wave, and it threw me for a moment.

Oh, its nothing, I replied. After a pause, I ventured, Jack, wheres your mum? Why are you two here alone?

He fell quiet, obviously weighing whether to tell me, but after a determined shake of his head, he plunged into the whole story as if sharing it made him feel more grown up.

From what he told me, Mark, due to his job, often went away for training or meetings. Jack stayed home with his mum, Catherine. To anybody looking in, theirs seemed a normal and happy family. But it turns out appearances can be deceivingCatherine played no small part in that.

One day, Mark announced, Im off to London for three weeks of trainingthey say a promotion will follow, with a much better salary

Apparently, Catherine actually seemed pleased hed be gone. Just two days later, she told Jack, Well have visitorsmy colleague Tom with his daughter Ellie. Tom and I have some plans to work on, so youll need to entertain Ellie. Shes a bit older than you.

Ellie was definitely a self-confident girl. After a short time in Jacks room, she suggested, Lets go hang out in the park or something

Catherine approved and pressed a crisp twenty-pound note into Jacks hand. Have fun! You should treat a girl to some ice cream, she smiled. Jack was surprisedhis mum never used to slip him that much cash.

They wandered about for a few hours. He actually found Ellie interestingshe was older, quicker, knew so much more. He was nearly fourteen, tall for his age, and a good head taller than her. And so three weeks slipped by.

Just before Mark returned, Ellie told Jack, Well, kiddo, thank goodness for your dadhonestly, I was getting tired of babysitting you. Mum made a deal with Tom that while the grown-ups enjoyed themselves, I was to keep you out of the house. She snorted. My parents have been divorced for agestheyre still fighting over the flat

Jack hated the way Ellie spoke about both her parents and his mum. Part of him believed her, part didnt, but all the evidence pointed in her direction. Back home, he noticed his mum barely tolerated his dad, and their home felt on the edge of falling apart. Mark seemed withdrawn too. One night, Jack was about to open up to his dad but instead stumbled upon a blazing row.

Yes, Ive been cheating, so what? he heard his mothers voice as he walked in from football training.

Do what you like, replied Mark quietly, but Ill be filing for divorce. Jack will stay with mehe deserves better.

Fine by me! Catherine snapped. Im starting a new life.

Jack darted to his room and listened as the argument continued. Catherine admitted, Ive been seeing Tom for agesyou never noticed a thing. Im moving in with him tomorrow.

The next day was a Saturday. Jack stayed in bed, knowing his mum was packing up to leave. He heard the front door slam behind her. Mark later tried to explain but Jack just said, No need, Dad, I already figured it out. I wanted to tell you myself. I love youwell be better off, just the two of us.

Jack, youre more grown up than I realised, Mark replied, ruffling his hair. And your mums left me, not you. See her if you want to.

But Jack had no desire to see his motherhe simply couldnt forgive just yet.

After the beach, Jack and I stopped by Marks hotel room with some fruit. He already looked chirpier, promising to join us on the beach the next day.

Three days later, Mark and Jack had to head home, but I stayed two more days. Summer was ending. At the close of it, we hugged our goodbyes. Mark promised to meet me at the airport; Jack gave me a wide grin.

I stopped making plans, just blissfully re-read Marks kind, affectionate messages in which he confessed he already missed me, that he couldnt wait. Before long, Id moved into the flat with Mark and Jackand funny enough, it was Jack who seemed happiest of all. Not only for his dad, but for himself and for me.

Reflecting on it all, I realise you never know when the tide of your life will turn. Sometimes the smallest choicesa holiday you never planned, kindness to a strangerbring the greatest changes. This summer taught me that happiness often arrives when youre too busy living to search for it.