On the Edge of This Summer Working at the library, Dana considered her life dull—there were few visitors these days, as everyone was online. She often rearranged books on the shelves, dusting them off, but the highlight of her job was reading countless books of every genre: romance, philosophy… And by thirty, she realized that romance had somehow passed her by. At her age, she should probably start a family, but she wasn’t striking in appearance, her job paid little. It had never really crossed her mind to change her job, since she was content. The library mainly saw students, and occasionally schoolchildren or pensioners. Recently, a professional competition was held at the county level and, to her own astonishment, Dana won the grand prize—a fully paid two-week holiday by the seaside. “That’s fantastic. I’ll definitely go,” she cheerfully told her friend and mother. “On my salary I’d never get this far—this is happiness handed to me!” Summer was drawing to a close. Dana walked along the deserted beach; most holidaymakers were at cafes, since today the sea was especially rough. It was her third day at the seaside, and she wanted to stroll the shoreline alone, think, and dream. Suddenly, she saw a young man swept off the pier by a wave. Without a thought for herself, she rushed to help—it was close to shore, and though not a strong swimmer, she could manage in the water. The waves helped her pull the boy, holding him by the collar, until she finally managed to stand waist-deep on solid ground. One idea filled her mind: stay on her feet. She finally managed it. Standing there in her lovely dress, now clinging to her body, she looked at the boy in surprise. “He’s only fourteen, maybe a bit older, just tall and a little taller than me,” she thought and asked, “What were you thinking, swimming in this weather?” The boy got up, thanked her, and, swaying a little, walked off. Dana just shrugged and watched him go. The next morning, she woke with a smile—the weather was stunning, the sun shining bright, the sea sparkling blue and calm, apologising for yesterday’s roughness. After breakfast, she wandered down to the beach, basked in the sun, and later headed for a walk in the park. There, spotting a shooting range, she remembered her sharp aim from school and university. The first shot missed, but the second hit the target. “See, son, that’s how you shoot!” came a man’s voice behind her. She turned, surprised to see the boy from yesterday. The boy’s eyes flashed with fear—he recognised Dana—and she realised his father had no idea his son had nearly drowned. She smiled slightly. “Perhaps you can give us a lesson?” suggested the tall, friendly-looking man. “Zhenya here can’t shoot, and sadly, neither can I,” he added with a warm smile. Afterwards, they wandered together, enjoyed ice cream at a café, and rode the Ferris wheel. Dana half expected Zhenya’s mother to join them soon, but both father and son seemed content and were expecting no one. The boy’s father, introducing himself as Anton, was a fascinating conversationalist, intelligent, and with every passing minute Dana found herself ever more drawn to him. “Dana, have you been here long?” “No, just started my first week—I’ve got another left.” “And where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?” As it turned out, father and son were from the same town as Dana. All three laughed. “Funny, isn’t it? We never met at home, but here—even by chance,” Anton smiled warmly, clearly taken by the charming, composed woman beside him. Zhenya, now at ease, chatted freely—realising Dana wouldn’t tell his dad about the previous day’s mishap. They parted late, Anton and Zhenya seeing Dana to her hotel, promising to meet the next morning. Dana arrived at the beach first; her new friends were nearly an hour late. “Morning!” came Anton’s familiar voice. “Forgive us, Dana, we totally forgot to set the alarm and overslept!” he laughed apologetically, settling beside her. “Dad, I’m going swimming,” said Zhenya, heading toward the water. But Dana shouted, “Wait! You can’t swim!” Anton looked surprised. “Of course he can, he does competitions at school,” he replied. Dana fell silent. Surely, he couldn’t swim? Perhaps she’d been mistaken. They all stayed in a neighbouring hotel. The next days were magical. They met every morning at the beach, parted late, went on sightseeing trips. Dana longed to talk with Zhenya alone—she felt he had something weighing on his mind. In fact, she learned father and son lodged in the neighbouring hotel. The chance soon came. One morning, only Zhenya appeared. “Hi. Dad’s got a fever,” he said, “but I asked if I could come—I told him you’d keep an eye on me,” he smiled. “Sorry I decided that, but I just didn’t want to sit cooped up.” “Zhenya, can I get your dad’s number to call and check on him?” He dictated it. “Hello?” answered Anton, “Maybe not a ‘good’ morning, feeling rough with a fever. Please look after my boy—he’s promised to do everything you ask…” “Don’t worry, just get well. He’s nearly grown and very sensible. I’ll look in later to check on you,” Dana assured him. After a swim, Zhenya sprawled on a sunbed beside Dana and said, “You know, you’re a real friend.” She looked at him, he smiled. “What makes you say that?” “Thanks for not telling Dad about what happened,” Zhenya said, blushing. “I was swept off the pier by a wave, and I panicked for a moment.” “You’re welcome,” Dana smiled, and after a pause, asked, “Zhenya, where’s your mum? Why are you here with just your dad?” Zhenya hesitated, thinking, but then seemed to decide he was grown up enough. Anton’s job sometimes took him away on business trips—Zhenya would stay with his mum, Marina. To everyone else, they looked like a happy family. But as it turned out, it was just an act—because of Marina. One day Anton told his wife, “I’m being sent to London for three weeks for training—afterwards, my boss hinted at a promotion and a pay raise…” His wife seemed pleased. While he was gone, Marina told Zhenya, “We’re having guests—my colleague Arthur and his daughter Kira. Arthur and I need to work on some plans, so you need to entertain Kira. She’s a couple years older than you.” Kira was lively, decisive. Soon, she suggested, “Let’s hang out in the park or something…” Marina agreed and handed her son twenty pounds. “Treat her to an ice cream!” The days passed. With Kira, Zhenya found new experiences—she was older, wise beyond her years. Before his father returned, Kira said, “Well, little man, lucky your dad’s finally coming back. Frankly, I’m tired of keeping you busy—it’s only to keep you out of the way while our parents have fun.” Zhenya was disgusted; still, he could no longer ignore the truth. Back home, he saw his mother’s coldness to his father. The family was on the verge of breaking. He considered whether to tell his dad. Soon enough, he overheard his parents argue. “Yes, I’ve been cheating. So what?” he heard his mother shout as he entered from training. “Nothing. I’ll just file for divorce. You don’t care for our son, so he’ll stay with me…,” said his father. “Fine,” his mother replied, “I’ll have another family.” Hearing the door slam as she left, Zhenya was certain—he wanted to stay with his dad. When Anton tried explaining everything, Zhenya said, “No need. I already know. I love you, and I think we’ll be better off alone.” “You’re a grown-up now,” his father ruffled his hair. “Stay in touch with your mum if you wish—she’s left me, not you.” But Zhenya wasn’t ready to forgive. After the beach, Dana and Zhenya brought fruit to Anton, now feeling better. He promised they’d be at the beach the next day. Three days later, father and son had to go home, but Dana still had two days left. Summer was ending. On the edge of that summer, they said goodbye. Anton promised to meet Dana at the airport; Zhenya smiled. Dana made no plans, just happily reread Anton’s affectionate messages, as he confessed he missed her already and looked forward to her return. Soon, Dana moved into Anton and Zhenya’s flat—perhaps most delighted of all was Zhenya, happy for his father, for himself, and for Dana.

At the Edge of This Summer

Working quietly away in a sleepy village library, Diana sometimes felt her life was about as thrilling as a rainy Tuesday in February. With most locals now glued to the internet, visitors were rare mostly a smattering of students, the odd sixth former, and pensioners in search of large print Agatha Christies. Her daily routine was a gentle waltz of dusting shelves and nudging books into alphabetical order, which she did with all the ambition of a contented tortoise. The sole upside? She had read her way through half the library by thirty romance, philosophy, the odd detective and, with a sigh, realised all that romance had somehow skipped right over her own story.

Not that she was ancient or anything, but Diana was well aware thirty wasnt twenty, her looks wouldnt stop traffic, and her job would never feature on The Apprentice. Still, she hadnt bothered hunting for something flashier; everything about being a librarian suited her just fine. Shed often wondered, Why fix what isnt broken? The patrons were easy enough company, if lacking in the dashing hero department.

Then, out of the blue, the county council hosted a professionals competition for library staff, and to her utter astonishment, Diana snagged the first prize a fully paid two-week holiday to the seaside, something her meagre salary could never have managed.

Brilliant! Im actually going, can you believe it? she beamed at her mate Lucy and her mum. If it wasnt for this, Id never get away. Its like winning the lottery, only with more sand and less tax.

Summer was drifting away by the time she strolled along the wind-whipped sands of Eastbourne. Holidaymakers were dotted about, most hiding in fish and chip shops while the Channel churned moodily. On her third day, Diana fancied a solo wander to let her thoughts off the leash.

Suddenly she saw a teenager swept off the pier by a wave. Without a second of hesitation (and only a passing thought for her own swimming skills, which were passable but no Olympic feat), she charged into the surf after him. The waves were more help than hindrance, shoving the lanky youth back towards shore, though occasionally yanking them both backward sort of like aggressive line dancing. Gasping, dress plastered to her, she managed to haul him to standing depth.

He was just a boy, couldnt have been older than fourteen, but already nearly as tall as she was. As Diana caught her breath, she asked, What on earth possessed you to go swimming in this weather, hmm?

Thanks, mumbled the lad, looking a bit sheepish, before tottering off in his soggy trainers. Diana shrugged and watched him go, only slightly concerned shed see his parents on BBC South that evening.

The next morning, the sun was out in full English glory and the Channel sparkled like a freshly washed Mini. Diana grinned as she eyed the forgivingly calm sea, as if it was apologising for yesterdays rough play. After breakfast, she sprawled out on a sun lounger and later wandered through the clifftop gardens to a local funfair. Spotting a shooting gallery, she thought, In for a penny, in for a pound. Her schooldays in the drama club hadnt prepared her for marksmanship; the first shot missed spectacularly, but her second was a bullseye.

See, lad? Thats how you shoot! came a cheerful voice behind her. Turning, she nearly laughed her soggy pier rescuee and his dad!

The boys eyes went wide with recognition, clearly hoping she wouldnt blow the whistle on yesterdays aquatic antics. His father, introducing himself as Andrew, was tall, friendly, and possessed of a terribly affable smile. Perhaps youll show us both how its done, Miss Diana? Neither of us is exactly James Bond, Im afraid.

A tour of the funfair followed: rides, chips, and copious quantities of seaside ice cream. Diana still half-expected a mother to show up, but it was just the three of them, getting on famously. Andrew was sharp and funny, and Diana found herself grinning more and more as the afternoon wore on.

So, Diana, how long have you been holidaying in these parts?

This is only week one. Still another to go! she chirped.

And wheres home? If you dont mind my prying.

To everyones amusement, it turned out Andrew and his son, Jack, lived in the same town as Diana. Small world, isnt it? Andrew grinned, clearly delighted, while Jack gradually relaxed, reassured Diana wasnt about to dob him in for his close shave with a BBC headline. They walked Diana back to her hotel and agreed to meet at the beach the next day.

The following morning, Diana arrived first, as per her librarians punctuality, but the gents were nearly an hour late. Sorry, Diana, truly! Andrew huffed, setting down two bulging bags of towels. The only thing we forgot to pack this morning was a sense of time. Bloody alarm clock let us down.

Dad, Im off for a swim, announced Jack, making a beeline for the water.

Diana suddenly blurted, Wait! You cant swim! remembering her rescue mission.

Andrew blinked. Course he can top lad on the school team.

Diana blushed. Perhaps shed misread the whole escapade Easy mistake. She let it go.

Their hotels were right next to each other, which meant bumping into each other became routine. The next days breezed by in a jumble of beach mornings, lazy evenings, and sightseeing rain-or-shine. Diana kept thinking she should check in with Jack properly he seemed weighed down for such a cheeky teen. One afternoon, her chance arrived when only Jack showed up on the beach.

Hello, he said. Dads a bit under the weather temperature and all that but he let me out, reckoned you could keep an eye on me. Hope you dont mind!

Not at all, she grinned. But give me your dads number, just in case.

She called Andrew to assure him. Dont worry, Ill keep an eye hell be on his best behaviour, promise. Hope you feel better soon! she said, loading her basket with fruit for a visit later.

Sunbathing beside Diana, Jack suddenly piped up, Youre a pretty decent mate, you know.

Diana raised an eyebrow. Oh? What makes you say that?

Thanks for not telling Dad about the whole pier thing, he said, a little embarrassed. I really was knocked in by a wave. Wasnt my best moment.

Diana just smiled. Then, softly: Is your mum not here with you both?

Jack hesitated, then, after a determined shake of the head, and with all the solemnity of a nearly fourteen-year-old, he spoke. Turned out Andrew sometimes went off for work trips, leaving Jack with his mum, Karen. On the surface, they looked like the perfect family, but it was mostly impressive acting on Karens part.

One day, Andrew told his wife, Im bound for London three weeks of training. Big promotion if all goes well, and a massive pay rise, fingers crossed

Surprisingly, Karen seemed overjoyed. With Andrew gone, she sat Jack down: Weve got guests coming my colleague Martin and his daughter, Chloe. Martin and I need to discuss work, so youll entertain Chloe. Shes a bit older than you.

Chloe was quick on her feet and had an answer for everything. After a token ten minutes indoors, she declared, Come on, lets nip down the park. You can buy me an ice cream. Jack was baffled when his mum slipped a crisp fifty-pound note in his hand. Splurge a bit treat her, will you?

So the weeks trundled on, Chloe frequently dragging Jack out, until, just before Andrews return, she confided, Thank heavens your dads coming back. Im fed up being on distraction duty while your mums having a laugh with Martin. My parents are long divorced; they just bicker about whos keeping what house.

Left awkward and uneasy, Jack discovered the truth was hard to miss. His mum and Martin, his dad introverted and grim. One night, he overheard the lot.

Yeah, Ive cheated, so what? his mum snapped as Jack tiptoed in, clutching his school kit. What are you going to do? Ground me?

Andrew only replied, Nothing. Ill file for divorce Jack stays with me. Looks like youre not fussed about that?

Karen just shrugged. Fine by me. Im moving in with Martin.

The next day, Jack made himself scarce while his mum packed her bags. Hed already decided hed rather stick with his dad. He heard the front door slam and nobody bothered offering teary goodbyes.

Andrew tried to explain, but Jack cut him off gently: No need, Dad. I figured it out ages ago. I want to stay with you.

Andrew ruffled his hair. My boy. All grown up already. See your mum if you want, but dont feel you have to. She left me, not you.

For now, Jack had no interest in talking to his mum at all. After sun and sea, Diana and Jack swung by Andrews hotel with a bagful of goodies. He was already perking up and promised to join the beach crowd the next day.

A couple of days later, Andrew and Jack had to head home, while Diana had a bit more beach left in her holiday pot. Summer was nearly over. There, on the edge of that summer, they said their goodbyes. Andrew pledged to pick Diana up from Gatwick when she returned, and Jack smiled wider than ever.

Diana, emitting contented little sighs, reread Andrews sweet texts about missing her already. Not long afterwards, Diana moved in with Andrew and Jack much to Jacks obvious delight. In fact, he seemed happiest of them all for his dad, for himself, and, just maybe, especially for Diana.