A Mallorcan Affair: An enchanting summer read about family, love, and the secrets we keep. by Elise Darcy

Author:Elise Darcy [Darcy, Elise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penny Lane Press
Published: 2019-07-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 52

Clara turned around to find the man she had left sitting in the deckchair, standing in the doorway. He asked if she needed a hand. She didn’t know how long she’d been lingering there in front of the small kitchenette, staring off into space, lost in the past. ‘I was just fetching the milk.’ She paused. ‘Do you have milk in your tea?’

Ralph smiled. ‘Of course.’ There were many things he missed about the British way of life when he was away, even the weather, and especially a good cup of black tea with a splash of cold milk.

Ralph took a seat once more in the deckchair and looked down the beach towards the sea. He was reflecting on another time and place when the three of them had been together. It was the first summer he had gone with Tommy, Clara and their parents on holiday to Mallorca.

Every year Tommy and Clara wanted him to come with them to Mallorca, but Ralphs’ parents said they couldn’t afford the airfare. Years later Ralph suspected it was less about the money and more to do with the fact they’d miss their only child. When he turned eighteen, Ralph had saved up enough cash from his Saturday job to go with them, only to discover his parents had already booked and paid for his flight.

Ralph breathed a sigh. He didn’t want to think about the other reason he would never forget that summer in Mallorca. It was to be the last time they were all together. Ralph stared out to sea. He closed his eyes for a moment. He could hear the surf in the distance washing up on the shore and a seagull’s cry overhead. A gentle breeze brushed his face.

Clara opened another cupboard door in the small kitchenette at the back of the hut. She was looking for a spoon. The gas cylinder, positioned out of sight in a cupboard, was attached to a small two-ring hob on the worktop. On the hob was an old-fashioned whistle kettle she imagined the twins had found in one of the charity shops in the town. It was just coming to the boil.

Clara poured the boiling water into a brown chipped teapot and took the pint of milk out of the cooler box. She carried the teapot and a carton of milk outside and set them down on the table.

She sat in the deckchair and was about to apologise for the chipped teapot when she noticed his eyes were closed. Had he fallen asleep? It was very peaceful at this end of the beach. The warm summer sunshine was enough to send anybody off to the land of Nod. Suddenly her eyes grew heavy.

Clara shook herself. That wouldn’t do at all. What if her guest stirred and discovered she had dozed off? The pot of tea would get cold if she didn’t wake him. She was sitting there staring at him, wondering what to do, when she had the strangest sensation they’d met before.

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