One Day In Summer. Shari Low
involuntary shiver made her toes curl as another glance at the picture threw up a memory that popped her bubble of bliss. This date had another significance, another association, one that now, over twenty years later, still made her stomach twist with regret and embarrassment. With a ferocity that almost made her glasses rattle, she shook her head, shutting down that thought.
That birthday, twenty-two years ago, had been the day that changed everything.
Nope, not going back there. Hadn’t she learned that you could do nothing to change the past? Hadn’t she been doing her best to have a new, bright, sunny outlook? From this day forward, the Agnetha ‘Aggs’ McMaster of the last two decades was behind her. The woman who’d lived for other people, who’d taken care of everyone else, was going into retirement, and the new independent, optimistic version of herself was in charge now.
A buzz from her phone made her jump and she picked it up to see a text with that familiar name on the screen. The flush that crept up from her neck was equal parts excitement and guilt.
Happy birthday, gorgeous. Have you told them yet?
She’d promised she would break the news before today, but of course she’d chickened out. It was too big. Too scary. Too radical.
With a sigh, she turned the phone over without replying.
She’d tell them at some point, when the moment was right.
Today was the first day of Aggs McMaster’s plan to claim back a life on her own terms. She just had to take the first step. And then decide if she had the courage to see it through.
2
Mitchell McMaster
The thud of the pavement under his feet provided a steady rhythm that Mitchell used to synchronise his breath. As he turned into the crescent that housed his three storey sandstone home, he barely even registered the early-morning dog walkers, the couple from No. 15 running on the other side of the road in matching Lycra, and the parents from No. 4 shepherding two boys in rugby kits into their Audi estate.
The west end of Glasgow, with its beautiful Victorian terraces and tree lined streets, was his favourite part of the city, yet living there, like everything else in his life, was just something he took for granted now.
He pressed his thumb on the biometric lock on the front door. He’d had it installed the year before when he’d upgraded the security and CCTV systems. It was probably an unnecessary expense – the company he’d founded ten years ago specialised in commercial law, not criminal law, so the personal risks were considerably lower – but it was tax deductible, while adding to the value of the house, so it made sense. And at least he didn’t have to faff around with keys any more.
‘Morning, Sweatman,’ Skye greeted him with a grossed-out wince, before returning her gaze to the pile of textbooks in front of her. Half-past eight on a Saturday morning and she was already on the books, preparing for her exams next week. That apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
Mitchell gave her a kiss on the top of her head as he passed her, earning a disgusted ‘Eeeeew,’ in return.
‘Sweatdad to you,’ he retorted, letting the teasing go over his head. Just about every morning in his life, he rose at 5.30 a.m. and did a workout in their basement gym, followed by a five kilometre run. It kept him lean, toned and in the same size suit trousers he’d worn since he was in his twenties. More than that, it gave him the clear head he needed every day of the week to get the best deals for his clients and maintain his reputation as one of the top corporate lawyers in the city.
He took pride in his appearance, in his home, and in his business and he was laser-focused on putting in the effort to maintain them all. Today there would be no work, but he’d definitely need to be on his A game because there was every chance the next twelve hours or so could be life-changing.
The coffee machine, integrated into a wall of cream gloss Poggenpohl units, began to gurgle as soon as he switched it on to make the first of his four daily espressos. He liked order and structure in his day. It was the only way he got through the demands of a busy practice while keeping himself in the best possible shape.
He leaned against the quartz worktop while he knocked back the bitter liquid.
‘Need help with anything?’ he asked Skye.
‘Nope, I’m all good.’
Maybe it was the morning light streaming in through the window, but as she lifted her head he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Was she getting enough sleep? Was she eating properly? Had she lost weight? It was hard to tell under the standard uniform of gym leggings topped with massive oversized sweatshirts that she wore in the house. She’d been on study leave for the last month, so he’d barely seen her in anything else.
It had been almost a year since she’d come to live here, and they’d developed an easy relationship based on love and a shared passion for the law, but he didn’t want to drop the ball. Aggs had been great about Skye moving here, accepting that it gave her more space, peace, and resources in her studies. After living separately from the girls for a decade after the divorce, Mitchell was loving the new closeness.
‘You haven’t forgotten it’s your mum’s birthday today, have you?’
‘No, of course not. Isla says she’s forcing Mum to relax this morning. I’m going round for lunch with them though. We’ve arranged for a few of Mum’s friends to be there too, but she doesn’t know that, so that’ll be her first surprise of the day. The second surprise – because we’re amazing daughters who are milking this to death – will be her party tonight. Are you and Celeste still coming so you can all pretend to be progressive adults working together to form the perfect blended family?’
Mitchell wasn’t sure if it was the amused, teasing tone or the accuracy of her perception that made him roll his eyes.
Agnetha’s surprise birthday party. Since the divorce, and his remarriage to Celeste, they’d celebrated every event together for the sake of the kids, no matter how hard it was. In the beginning, it was very bloody tough, but he only had himself to blame for that.
‘Thanks for the sarcasm, madam. This is why I always preferred your sister,’ he quipped, ducking immediately as a pencil came flying in his direction.
Of course, they both knew it wasn’t true. He and Aggs loved both their daughters absolutely equally and if they’d done anything right at all it was to try to bring them up knowing that they were both loved beyond measure. Skye living here full time was such a joy, and Isla had a room here too, even if it was only used on the occasional weekend. In fact, since she’d come back from her travels and started work in the café, she’d barely stayed over at all. Still, he made a point of meeting her a couple of times a week for lunch or dinner and he was grateful that they both allowed him to be central in their lives. Even if it did come with some high grade cheek from both of them. Small price to pay.
He was still laughing and Skye was still feigning outrage when he picked her pencil out of the sink and tossed it back to her.
‘To answer your question, yes, we are both coming and, yes, we’ll be the perfect progressive parents,’ he joked. ‘How have you managed to keep it a surprise?’
‘Lies, optimism and taking advantage of her aversion to modern communication,’ Skye replied proudly. ‘We’ve told her that we are taking her out for a quiet ‘mum and daughters’ dinner, just the three of us. And thanks to the fact that she refuses to use social media, we’ve plastered the party all over Facebook and Insta to try to make sure we reach everyone. Look…’
Skye clicked the trackpad on her MacBook, then spun it round so Mitchell could see the post.
The announcement was on the The Ginger Sponge’s Facebook page.
To all friends, family and regular customers!
Tonight we’re having a SURPRISE party to celebrate our