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Back All You Need Is Love Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. OCTOBER
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. Acknowledgments
  53. More from Jessica Redland
  54. About the Author
  55. Also by Jessica Redland
  56. About Boldwood Books

As we stood by the door a few minutes later, Sam said, ‘I know I’m probably confusing the hell out of you at the moment but I’ve never been anything but honest with you. Let me get through Friday and past telling Nikki’s parents. I don’t know whether I’ll need days or weeks or months after that but I’ll continue to be honest with you. I promise.’

He leaned forward and gave me a soft kiss on the lips then ran down the drive to his campervan, leaving me touching my lips yet again, longing for more.

37

.

7.10 a.m. North Bay. Friday 11th November. One year on.

I sat cross-legged on the cold sand next to my surfboard, eyes fixed on the horizon. Sunrise was due any minute.

To my left, way down at the other end of the beach, were the rock pools where I lost her. I could just about make out the shape of the Sea Rescue Sanctuary but the beach itself was in darkness.

I turned my gaze back to the sea. I’d expected to feel tearful but, as the sun peeped over the horizon and became a growing arch of orange, I felt hopeful. New day. New start.

Standing up, I grabbed my board then ran towards the sea. ‘This is for you, Nikki,’ I whispered. ‘And our baby.’

The unmistakable aroma of bacon and eggs hit me as soon as I opened the door to Mum and Dad’s, making my stomach growl appreciatively. I found Mum in the kitchen filling the teapot. She tried to dab her eyes with a tea towel but she wasn’t quick enough. ‘Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t want to cry but I can’t help it. I miss her.’

I hugged her. It was easy to focus on the pain I’d felt during the past year and forget that Mum and Dad had lost their surrogate daughter too. ‘I miss her too.’

‘How was the surf?’ she asked, pulling away and reaching into the cupboard for some mugs.

‘Perfect. I think Nikki would have approved. She wouldn’t have wanted me to spend the day moping about.’

‘I think that Nikki would approve of anything that makes you happy.’ She looked at me pointedly and raised her eyebrows.

‘Why do I get the impression that you’re not talking about surfing?’

She shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea what you mean.’

‘Yeah, right. Have I got time for a shower before breakfast’s ready?’

‘I can keep it warming. Off you go. You’ve got sand in your hair as usual.’

An image of Nikki on the evening I met her, sand in hair, flashed into my mind, making me smile.

A text was waiting from Jemma when I’d finished in the shower:

✉︎ To Sam

Thinking of you today as you remember Nikki and the baby. Hope the memorial is everything you hope for xx