Summer at Shell Cottage by Lucy Diamond

Author:Lucy Diamond
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Contemporary Women, Romantic Comedy, Contemporary, Holidays, Romance, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781447257806
Publisher: Pan Books
Published: 2015-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A few days after the kayaking trip, Molly lay back on the creaking camp bed and stared up at the sloping ceiling of Shell Cottage’s attic room. Poky and hot, home to about a million industrious spiders and with so little floor space that she was always tripping over her suitcase, this was not exactly the bedroom of any self-respecting teenager’s dreams. Nor for that matter was this holiday.

So far this week, she had made approximately five thousand loom-band bracelets with Libby and played Minecraft with Dexter for a whole rainy morning; she had feigned interest in Ted’s pebble collection and listened to all his many tedious dinosaur facts; she had kayaked and hiked (under duress), and then yesterday she, Mum and Robert had cycled all the way to Salcombe and back, stopping for a pub lunch and a nosey around the swanky yachtie shops (‘Swanky with a silent “S”,’ Robert had said, eyeballing the price tag on a T-shirt with a look of horror). She had eaten a cream tea too, even though she knew it was, like, a million calories and would give her spots. But she’d had enough of being here now, and badly missed her friends. She missed Ben even more. Next year, she was either staying at home or going to go to Dad’s, and that was that. Whatever Mum said.

She twisted her phone in her hand. She still hadn’t heard back from Dad. What was he up to? she wondered. How was life working out for him and Anne-Marie in France? He had posted a picture on Facebook recently which showed him raising a bottle of beer in the air as the sun set beyond the mountains in the background. There was another one of Anne-Marie looking vastly pregnant in a sundress and bare feet, standing on the terrace of their knackered-looking farmhouse and laughing. She had very white teeth, Anne-Marie. White teeth and thick, glossy black hair. She was going to have the cutest baby ever, probably. A cuter baby than Molly, anyway, who had been a skinny, shrunken egghead for the first six months of her life.

Would Dad still love her when he and Anne-Marie had their cute French baby? Would he even remember her, back in London, spots on her chin, slogging to school on drizzly autumn mornings? Her friend Chloe barely saw her dad these days, not since he’d married again and had two other children. He had taken his new family off to California this summer, while Chloe and her mum, Jan, were left in their small flat in Finchley. The paint was peeling off Chloe’s bedroom wall where damp was getting in but Jan had been off work for six months with depression and they had no chance of moving anywhere nicer. When she spoke about her dad, Chloe didn’t sound bitter or even angry just sad. Resigned to the fact that he loved these other kids more than her. Molly had often thought, quite fiercely, that if she ever saw Chloe’s dad again, she would give him a piece of her mind.

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