She had always loved May Day, she told herself as she waited for the kettle to boil for her morning cup of tea. It was not just that Elizabeth and Lucy had finally agreed to swim with her at the cove tonight. She had circled it in red on the kitchen calendar, just so Lucy would know how important it was to her; as if by osmosis it might sink into her daughter’s bones and then transfer onto Elizabeth.
She rang Elizabeth at eleven in the morning about absolutely nothing more than the excuse to remind her that they had made an arrangement for later. It gave Jo an unexpected lift to hear her friend answer the surgery phone with a bright new ring to her voice; being busy suited her far more than Jo might have ever imagined.
‘Maybe we should make it a little earlier?’ Lucy said later as she finished eating dinner.
‘Do you think Elizabeth will be too tired?’ Jo hadn’t thought of that before; after all, Elizabeth could be worn out after her day at the surgery.
‘No. No, not at all.’ Lucy stopped and then the silence that hung between them left Jo in no doubt that her daughter’s worry had not been Elizabeth but Jo. She had sent off a fresh blood sample the previous day after the hospital had called to say that there had been a mix-up with labels and to be sure, it was better to run the test again.
To her credit, Elizabeth knocked on the front door at precisely eleven thirty. The night was not yet entirely dark. The clouds had moved aside and a full moon rippled silver across the soft movement of the water.
‘It’s going to be bloody freezing down there,’ Lucy said, handing the two women heavy coats from the hall. The last thing she wanted was any of them catching cold.
‘Oh, don’t be such a Mary Ellen,’ Jo said and shook herself out of the oversized coat. She was at the gate before any of them.
The sea was unusually calm, as nice as she could have wished for it to be. In the cove she threw off her clothes and waited while Lucy wriggled out of her jeans and then stood there shivering. Elizabeth carefully removed each garment with great care and then folded them in a neat pile.
‘You’re making it worse on yourself with all that shivering.’ Honestly, Jo thought, she sounded the same way she had when Lucy was a child.
‘Don’t laugh,’ Elizabeth said from behind them. ‘But I didn’t think we’d actually go through with this, so…’ The women turned around to see her standing in her underwear, a sturdy Doreen bra and large knickers that came well above her waist. ‘I couldn’t find a swimsuit and…’
‘For goodness’ sake, Elizabeth, who’s looking at you? You could take the lot off and no-one’s going to see.’
‘R-right,’ Elizabeth said and gently peeled off the remainder of her clothes. ‘Oh God.’
‘Come on, ladies, it’s now or never.’ Jo tore away down the beach, hoping that when she hit the water Lucy would be at her side. She knew for sure Elizabeth would be, because she knew her well enough to know the only thing worse than jumping in, would be standing there in the altogether! The shrieks on either side of her made her laugh. Suddenly she remembered the first times she’d come here as the weather had grown colder. ‘It’s better if you swim out a little bit. Hanging about only makes you colder.’ She swam out until she was certain her feet could no longer touch the seabed and then she flipped over onto her back. Soon, Elizabeth and Lucy were next to her. ‘Look.’ She waited while they turned to take in the sky above them.
The moon had turned out in all its satisfying fullness, a great silver-white orb for the occasion and now that the last of the day’s light had finally faded away for the night, the sky shimmered with what looked like a million stars over their heads. In the distance, the village rose above them – a zigzag line of streets chasing upwards to the church spire, which was gently illuminated at its crown.
‘Oh, Mum, I can’t believe it’s so beautiful,’ Lucy said and she sounded like the child Jo remembered so vividly more often these days.
‘It is. I wanted you to see it, just in case…’ Jo reached out her hand towards Lucy and for a moment, they grasped each other in the silence and it felt to Jo as if they would never let each other go.
‘It puts everything in perspective,’ Elizabeth said after a moment.
‘It certainly does,’ Jo murmured.
‘You know, my mother never let me go swimming with all the other village kids,’ Elizabeth said softly now. ‘I was always kept apart; they were never quite good enough. She always had big notions for me.’