Page 47 of Sunsets and Happy Ever Afters

Maya kissed her children and pleaded, “Please be good for Rose and Charles. No bickering.” She ruffled Lewis’s hair.

“We will.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Charles said, giving a wink for the children to see.

“Mum and Dad know where we are if there are any problems,” Sam said, trying to reassure Maya as they left the house.

It was now getting dark, and the stars were appearing in the clear sky, with an almost full moon casting its light onto the beach. The constant roar of the ocean broke the silence of the night — a sound Sam missed. It wasn’t quite the same in Portishead.

Heather and Tom walked hand in hand up the hill to The Cormorant in front of Sam and Maya. He would have loved to be able to hold her hand, to feel its softness inside his own, the heat of her palm against his. He missed intimate moments like this the most. But knowing she was dating someone else, he needed to be her friend. Just her friend.

As they entered The Cormorant, the band was setting up in the bay window, the tables having been removed. It was the usual band set up: three microphone stands at the front, the drums at the back. Two guitars were propped on stands, and a keyboard was to the right.

Joe greeted them, scrubbing up well in a long-sleeved Superdry shirt and jeans. It was as smart as he got. The pub was warm, so they all removed their jackets, placing them over the backs of chairs at a table that Joe had reserved for them.

“What would you like to drink, Maya?” Tom asked, going straight to the bar before Sam had a chance to offer.

“Oh, a white wine, please.”

“Shall we share a bottle?” Heather stood beside Maya, sussing out the wine.

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“Go on, we’ll be here all night. Don’t make me drink a bottle on my own.” Heather nudged Maya’s shoulder playfully.

“She’ll probably drink most of it,” Sam said in Maya’s ear, loud enough for Heather to hear.

“You know me too well, brother,” she said.

“Oh, go on then,” Maya said, smiling.

“Do you have a preference?” Heather asked. “Sauvignon or pinot?”

“You choose. I don’t mind.”

“I have Prosecco on offer,” Joe said, appearing beside the group. “And put your money away, Tom. This is on me.”

“Prosecco?” Heather looked at Maya eagerly. “Joe’s buying!”

“It would be rude not to, then,” Maya said.

Joe ordered the Prosecco and three pints of Doom Bar. One by one, the bartender placed the pints on the bar. Doom Bar had been the first ale Sam had shared with his dad, when he was old enough to drink legally. He was given the job of removing the cork from the Prosecco. It popped with a hollow bang, and luckily it didn’t fizz over the top. He poured the bubbling golden liquid into two flutes for Heather and Maya, then placed the bottle in the ice bucket on the table. Once the bubbles had settled, the two women tapped glasses.

“Happy Easter,” Heather said. Everyone raised their glasses, and repeated, “Happy Easter.”

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