My mother, Helen, had always taken Marks side, my stepfather. One night the strain finally snapped inside
I need a garden shed on my plot, so I decide not to call a large construction firm. I figure I only need
The maternity wards bright, airy hall throbbed with a restless joy. Expectant families swarmed the space
Mike, did you get out the good tableware? The set with the gold rim, not the everyday stuff.
Wed gone on a little family break abroad, and one day we found ourselves in a rather awkward spot.
Harriet carefully untied the knot, feeling the tiny shoe tremble in her hands. The laces were firm and
It’s your duty to foot the bill for me, just as my dad did. I have every right to it!
You cant be serious, Tom. Please tell me this is a bad joke. Or maybe I misheard you over the running tap?
On the Edge of This Summer
Working in the local library, Dana always found her life dull—there were hardly any visitors these days, with everyone online. She often rearranged books, dusting them off as she went. The only real perk was that she’d read an unimaginable number of books: romance, philosophy, and everything in between. Yet at thirty, she suddenly realised romance had passed her by.
A respectable age—surely time to start a family—yet her looks were unremarkable, her job not well paid. It hadn’t even occurred to her to change careers; she was content enough. These days only university students, the occasional schoolchild, and a few pensioners visited the library.
Recently, a regional professional competition took place. To Dana’s complete surprise, she won the grand prize: an all-expenses-paid fortnight at a seaside resort.
“That’s brilliant. I’ll definitely go,” she cheerfully told her friend and her mum. “On my salary, I could never afford it, so this is happiness dropped in my lap.”
Summer was drawing to a close. Dana walked along the deserted beach—the cafe was busier, with most holidaymakers staying inside as the sea was especially rough today. Her third day by the sea, she felt like wandering alone, to think and to dream.
Suddenly, she saw someone swept from the pier by a wave—a young man. Without thinking, she rushed to help. Luckily it was close to the shore, and while she wasn’t a brilliant swimmer, she’d always been able to hold her own in water. The waves helped her haul the boy by the collar, then dragged them back, but Dana persevered, finally managing to reach shallow water and get to her feet. She realised, standing there in her soaked dress, that the “young man” was a boy of about fourteen—just tall for his age.
“What were you thinking, swimming in this weather?” she asked, but the boy simply thanked her, then staggered away. Dana just shrugged and watched him go.
The next morning, sunny and warm, Dana smiled as she looked out at the gently lapping blue sea—the waves seemed almost apologetic for yesterday. After breakfast, she stretched out on the beach, and later wandered to a small funfair in the park. Spotting a pop-up shooting range, she decided to have a go; she’d been good at marksmanship at school and university. First shot missed, second was a bullseye.
“Well done! That’s how it’s done, son!” said a man behind her. Turning, Dana saw yesterday’s teenager with his father.
The boy looked worried when he recognised her—a secret perhaps best kept. The man, introducing himself as Anthony, was amiable and asked if she’d show them a thing or two. Dana agreed, and soon the three of them were eating ice cream in a seaside café, then riding the Ferris wheel. Dana expected the boy’s mother to turn up, but no one else came; father and son were relaxed, unhurried.
Anthony turned out to be great company, easy to talk to, and Dana found herself warming to him more with every passing minute.
“Dana, have you been here long?”
“No, just started my first week. I’ve another one left.”
“Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”
To their amusement, they soon realised they all lived in the same city—small world indeed.
For the next week, they met every morning on the beach, parted late at night, even went on day trips together. With time, Dana noticed the boy, Jamie, seemed preoccupied, but perhaps she was imagining things. She learned that father and son were staying at the hotel next door to hers.
One day, only Jamie turned up at the beach.
“Hi—Dad’s come down with a temperature. I told him you’d look out for me, if that’s alright. Didn’t fancy a day stuck in the room!”
Dana got Anthony’s number and rang to check in.
“Don’t worry and do enjoy yourselves. Jamie promises he’ll listen to you!” Anthony said, trying to sound upbeat.
After a swim, Jamie looked up at Dana and said, “You’re a real mate, you know that?”
She smiled. “Why do you say that?”
“Thanks for not telling Dad about what happened the other day. I really got caught out by that wave.”
The conversation drifted—Dana gently enquired about his mum. Jamie hesitated, then decided to trust her and began to tell their family story.
Anthony, it turned out, worked away now and again. When he was gone, Jamie stayed with his mum, Marina. They seemed, outwardly, the perfect family, but reality was different.
Anthony had been sent to London for a work course—if it went well, he’d get promoted, and money would be better for them all. His wife seemed pleased, if anything, when he left. Two days later, Marina announced she’d invited her colleague, Arthur, and his daughter, Ciara, over for the evening. Jamie was to take Ciara out for ice cream.
Ciara was a couple of years older and pretty streetwise. As the days went by, she let slip that her dad “paid her” to distract Jamie so their parents could “entertain themselves” at home. Jamie found it hard to believe, but the truth stared him in the face.
Soon after Anthony returned, Jamie overheard his parents arguing.
“Yes, I’ve been seeing someone else,” his mum admitted.
“Fine,” replied Anthony, “I’ll file for divorce. Jamie stays with me—you seem not to need him.”
“Fine by me—I’ll have a new family soon.”
Jamie stayed in bed the next morning, listening to his mum pack.
“Don’t worry, son,” Anthony tried to explain, but Jamie cut in: “No need, I know everything. I love you, Dad. We’ll be fine.”
Anthony smiled, ruffling his hair: “You’ve grown up, son. Stay in touch with your mum, if you like—she’s left me, not you.”
Jamie admitted he didn’t feel ready to see her again—not yet.
That day, Jamie and Dana visited Anthony with some fruit. He promised to join them at the beach soon.
Three days later, Anthony and Jamie had to leave; Dana stayed on a few more days. Summer was ending—on the edge of this summer, they said goodbye. Anthony promised to meet Dana at the airport. Jamie smiled beside him.
Dana made no plans, just basked in the sweet texts Anthony sent, telling her how much he missed her already and how eagerly he awaited her return. Soon after, Dana moved in with Anthony and Jamie—perhaps happiest of all was Jamie, for his dad, for Dana, and for himself.
On the Edge of This English Summer At the Edge of This Summer Working in a modest public library among cobbled Oxford streets, Diana often
My aunt left me her little cottage, but my parents objected. They demanded that I sell it, hand the proceeds
