Cillian dropped a kiss onto her lips once more, looking at her with such deep affection April couldn’t hold him tight enough.
‘I can’t believe I get to kiss you every day,’ he said, colouring a little. ‘All of this, it’s just … you, April. You brought this place back to life. Hell, you brought us all back to life.’
April looked at their neighbours, playing with Orla. George was taking a photo of the pair of them dancing along to the radio, the occasional whoop from them both as they chatted about the upcoming Lizard Point wedding. Judith would be here soon, and they would all eat pancakes together, spilling out of each other’s chalets and houses as the holidaymakers all awoke and started their day in this beautiful corner of the world. They did things like this all the time, swopping goods, helping with the animals, spending time with Orla and the guests who all came for a holiday, to spend time together and to make memories together. It was more like a community than a chalet park, and the guest books and bookings log were full of repeat customers, thrilled with their stay and booking their next visit before they even left Lizard Point.
She shook her head, looking back at her future husband. She couldn’t wait to be Mrs O’Leary, but she still had something to do before she could truly enjoy the moment. The last part of her past to lay to rest. It didn’t feel like an ending now though, but more a beginning.
‘Cillian, I could say just the same about you. Hiring you was the best thing I ever did.’
‘I rather thought the night in the laundry room was the best,’ he whispered in her ear, making her whole body tingle. ‘Need a reminder?’
April smiled at him broadly. ‘Speaking of reminders, aren’t you supposed to be making breakfast?’
Cillian narrowed his eyes, his dimple showing in his cheek as he grinned at her.
‘I was, was I? Bossy wife already, I like it.’ Turning his head to the others, he called across. ‘Pancakes on the way people, over at the O’Learys’!’ He pulled his tongue out at her as she winced at his loud declaration. ‘Shut it, or you get porridge.’
Kissing her again, he turned around and walked her over the threshold, wiggling his bum all the way as Orla shot in and copied him, making April guffaw with laughter.
***
As Martha and George made their way over, minus the bum wiggles, George turned to Martha, and she frowned at his slight limp.
‘What’s wrong, your dodgy hip again?’ she asked him.
George rolled his eyes, and Martha saw the boy he was, and the man he had become, all at once. A face she had pictured for years, and could now kiss and touch and see any time she wanted.
‘My hip is fine, I told you. I banged it on the bedside table, remember?’
Martha blushed.
‘I was thinking though, we should do it too. Get married.’
Martha looked at him open-mouthed. He stood there, probably waiting for her to shoot him down, to point out the madness of it all, but she didn’t speak. She couldn’t get her brain to work.
‘Martha?’ he asked, the colour draining from his face. ‘Too soon? I knew it, trust me to bloody well cock this up after all this time. I knew it!’ He tutted at himself, something he used to do as a young man. The little action catapulted her back to that day all those years ago, when he had asked her out. She’d said no because of Charlie, and he’d tutted at himself then. He was nervous; she knew it as well as she knew her own feelings.
‘George,’ she said softly, seeing April’s face looking at them from the window. Orla’s face popped up in front of them, and she started screaming excitedly. Bouncing up and down, she whispered something into April’s ear, and April joined in. After a moment or two, when Martha was just about to ask the earth to open up and swallow her, a pair of strong arms came from nowhere, wrapping around the two screeching females and pulling the curtains shut behind them. She smiled to herself. Cillian was a true gent. She couldn’t be happier for him. He deserved it – they all did.
George flinched, but he didn’t meet her eyes. The confident grown man he had become wasn’t the driving force behind his eyes at the moment, and Martha felt it too. She had to keep from looking down at herself, half expecting to see her party dress and high heels, rather than her comfortable painting clothes.
‘George,’ she said again. ‘It could never be too soon. I didn’t get to marry you yesterday, but I’d marry you tomorrow over and over again. Yes.’
George swallowed hard and reached for her. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed away the years and distance between them. They were still on that beach, wrapped around each other. This time though, they were together. It was finally their time.
Over George’s shoulder, Martha saw the curtains twitch and spied April looking out at her, her face full of tears. A hand came from nowhere, passing her a white handkerchief and disappearing again. She looked at April and nodded, and April gave her a snotty double thumbs up before running off. Probably to dance around with her excited little family. A family that they were both a part of now, more than ever. She was a nana, and a friend, and now a bride-to-be again. Mrs Martha Beaumont. She thought of Charlie, and sent up a silent thank you to him, for loving her for her best years. She couldn’t bring herself to regret them, not even with George producing a ring from his jacket pocket. The truth was, she’d loved two men, in very different ways. Her life was full of art and pain, but the love had been there too, all along.
As they headed indoors, Martha marvelling at the ring on
