‘I think there’s some jam.’ I rummage in the cupboard. ‘Here you go.’
Alice picks up the jar and, opening the lid, examines the contents. She screws her nose up. ‘I’ll take a raincheck.’ She looks up at me. ‘It’s got bits in it.’
It strikes me that Alice is being ever-so-slightly fussy, but I let it go. ‘There’s always Marmite,’ I say, as I go about making a coffee for her. .
‘Marmite?’ says Alice.
‘Don’t even go there,’ says Luke. ‘We’ve got jam or marmalade. They’re a much safer bet.’
‘Maybe, Luke, you could have a look online to see whether we can get the peanut butter and jelly for Alice,’ says Mum as I come back with my sister’s drink.
‘I’m sure we’ve got something Alice will like,’ I say. Luke really doesn’t need to go off on a wild-goose chase for Alice’s American tastes. He’s very obliging towards Mum, but sometimes I think she takes it for granted. I return to the cupboard and start pulling out various jars, the clonk of the glass on the granite work surface representing my irritation. ‘Marmalade. Nutella. Honey.’ I turn to look at Alice.
‘Er, honey will be great,’ she says, flicking a glance towards Luke.
‘Local honey,’ he says, passing the jar over to her. Then, turning, he gives me the eyes, which I return with a shrug and then feel rather embarrassed that my little display of frustration hasn’t gone unnoticed by all the adults in the room.
Fortunately, Mum recovers the situation and starts chatting about the day ahead and what we’re going to do. I brush my little display of petulance away with the toast crumbs and join in the conversation.
Alice seems happy with the plan and is pleased that we are all going out together. ‘Oh, it will be like a proper family outing. Our first real one. One that I can remember, anyway.’
Mum smiles warmly. ‘I can’t tell you how I’ve longed for a day like this.’
‘Me too,’ says Alice.
It’s an unusually warm day for mid-October and just a gentle sea breeze behind us as we stroll along Brighton seafront later. Luke is pushing Chloe in her buggy and Hannah is skipping along beside him. I’m walking alongside Mum, with Alice on the other side. The three of us have linked arms.
‘Do you remember coming here at all?’ Mum asks.
Alice grimaces. ‘Not really,’ she says.
‘What about the pier?’ I ask as we get closer. ‘We used to go there all the time. We’d get ice cream and run up and down looking through the slats of the pier at the water below.’
‘I used to take you down to the amusements at the end of the pier,’ says Mum. ‘You were a bit small for most of the rides, but Clare used to go on some of them. We’d sit there and watch her.’
‘Sorry,’ says Alice. ‘I guess I was too young to remember.’
We carry on walking towards the pier, taking in the scenery. The pebble beach is empty of the summer holiday-makers and the cool autumnal sun shimmers faintly across the grey incoming tide as it laps gently back and forth.
Hannah comes skipping back to us, while Luke waits for us to catch up. ‘Mummy! Mummy! Daddy’s going to take me on the big eye,’ she says excitedly.
Along from the pier is the Brighton i360. A glass pod, which glides up and down a four-hundred-and-fifty-foot pole, offering a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view over the city and along the coast. Or so I’m told. I’m not great with heights. I’ve been on it once with Luke when it first opened, but hated it so much I spent most of the time with my eyes closed.
‘Oh, wow! Can I come with you?’ says Alice. Hannah looks at me, checking to see what the right answer is.
‘That would be nice, wouldn’t it? If Alice comes on with you and Daddy?’ I say. We’ve caught up with Luke and, letting go of Mum’s arm, I take the buggy from him. ‘Did you want to go, Mum?’ I ask.
‘Why not?’ says Mum. ‘I keep saying I should go on it.’
I watch the four of them step through the double doors into the glass pod. It reminds me of Stephen Spielberg’s Close Encounters movie. My family have now been abducted by aliens and when they return they will be different people.
While I wait, I buy an ice cream, which I share with Chloe as we sit on a nearby bench. The sun hangs low in the sky and I angle the buggy so that Chloe is not facing into the breeze. The ride takes about twenty minutes and as the pod slowly descends, I walk over and wait near the doors.
Mum and Hannah emerge first, holding each other’s hands. I’m not sure who is helping who down the steps. Hannah sees me and a huge smile spreads across her face. ‘It was great, Mum!’ she shouts as she negotiates the last of the steps.
Behind them are Luke and Alice. They both look over and smile. By all accounts the ride has been a great success. Alice stumbles slightly on the steps. I give a small gasp – it’s the mother in me, I’m sure, as I envisage her falling flat on her face. Luckily, she manages to grab onto Luke to stop herself.
Alice holds onto Luke’s arm as they descend the remaining steps. She’s still holding onto him as they walk towards me. I watch as she leans into him, says something and they both laugh again.
I’ve never been the jealous type. Never had to be, I suppose, but today some strange sort of feeling stirs within my stomach and shoulder-charges my heart. I suddenly have this proprietorial basic instinct surge up within me. I’m not sure why, maybe it’s the way Alice looks so at ease with Luke, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to be linking arms with him. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Alice looks up and we make eye contact. Outwardly, I can feel my mouth moving into a smile. Inwardly, my face has contorted into something resembling the Incredible Hulk.
Alice returns the smile and drops her hand away from Luke’s arm. ‘That was just totally awesome, Clare,’ she says as they near me. ‘I have never been on anything like that before. You should have come.’
‘I have done it once before with Luke,’ I say. I move the buggy into his path. ‘Here, you push.’ I tell myself it’s because Chloe likes it when Luke pushes her. I slip my arm through Alice’s as we walk along the seafront, the wind whipping our hair around our faces.
Alice scoops her hair to one side and gives a shiver. ‘Much as I love being here, I do miss the Florida sunshine.’
I laugh. ‘By British weather standards, this is good for mid-October. You’ll have to get used to it.’
‘I should have brought some more suitable clothing.’
‘I can lend you a jumper or two,’ I say. ‘We’re pretty much the same size.’
‘Like twins,’ says Alice.
‘When you were little you always wanted to dress up in my clothes,’ I say, thinking back. The recent memory of the mushroom incident comes to mind again. ‘Do you remember when we had a teddy bear’s picnic in the back garden and you were sick all down a pink-and-white-striped t-shirt of mine you were wearing?’
‘Yes, I do!’ says Alice. ‘The T-shirt was more like a dress on me.’
‘That’s right, we put a belt around the middle. And all the sick got caught in the buckle. It was disgusting.’