Smile Again

SMILE AGAIN

A collection of short stories

Eunice Nascimento

Smile Again

A collection Of Short Stories

Copyright 2018 Eunice Nascimento. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the prior written permission of the author. Address all enquiries to: Eunice Nascimento, eunice.mus75@gmail.com

TABLE OF CONTENTS

MEMORIES OF KESSINGLAND BEACH

THE WAY TO MIA’S HEART

THE STRAY LETTER

JANET’S DILEMA

LIVING IN HOPE

THIRD TIME LUCKY

A SECOND CHANCE

COOKIES AND WALKS

THE PROM

TRUST IN ME

GRANNY SQUARE AFGHANS

LUCY’S ICE-SKATING PARTY

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MEMORIES OF KESSINGLAND BEACH

The April wind rustled my hair, sweeping fringe strands into my eyes as I stood on a sandy stretch of Kessingland beach. I pushed the hair away and stared at the vastness that was the sea, feeling as I always did when I was here - I was facing an entity larger than myself.

The sky was a clear blue and although the waves rippled a little the sea was peaceful. Dad would have loved it. But then he would have loved standing here no matter the weather or the mood of the sea. He had loved this beach and the sea, in all its guises.

Lately, he was on my mind a lot. And so were the stories he used to tell me and my brother Matt about growing up on this peaceful village on the East coast. His voice would be full of excitement as he talked of sitting on the sea wall with his mates and the rare occasions he spotted marine turtles and basking sharks.

My own memories of playing on this beach were just as happy. In his early twenties Dad left the area and settled in East London with Mum, a born and bred city girl, but he brought us here during the holidays.

The earliest visit I remember was as clear in my mind as a midsummer sky. It was during a hot sweltering summer when the beach was teeming with holidaymakers. I was about six, going through my orange phase – everything from my swimming costume to my sunhat, even my spade and bucket were orange – when I first walked on this beach with Dad, Mum and Matt. I fell in love with it.

After making a sandcastle fit for a king Matt had plastered on his irresistible smile and looked up at Dad. Can we please make you a lying statue?

Dad had laughed. You mean bury me in sand, don’t you?

Mum had looked alarmed at the idea. She enjoyed looking at the sea and sitting in the sun but she wasn’t crazy about getting sand on herself. She was sitting in an old fitted sheet which she’d laid out with our cool box and bags on the corners. She’d then pulled the corners up and made a sand free area for herself.

Why don’t you make another sandcastle? She’d asked.

We’ve done that Mummy. Matt had answered with a long suffering sigh. Look! He pointed to a family a few feet away from us You lie on the floor and we cover you with sand. You’ll look just like a statue and Mummy, you can take a picture. It’ll be fun.

Can we do it daddy? I’d asked excitedly, adding my voice to Matt’s.

Dad had winked at Mum, at least he’d tried to but it came out all wrong. He’d never learned to wink properly but for some reason his silly winks always made Mum smile.

Okay, Mum said, But don’t let any sand get in Daddy’s eyes or hair.

Matt and I had so much fun with Dad mock screaming, pretending the sand was tickling him. Mum had eventually joined in our laughter, her keen eye coaxing the camera to capture one of the best pictures of Matt, myself and Dad.

Eight months ago, Dad suffered a fatal heart attack. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found out he’d made plans to rest here but I was. I supposed he’d wanted to be near his family in London. But standing here made me realise there was no better place for him. For Dad, neither the peaceful churchyard at St Edmund’s Church down the road or the City of London Cemetery stood up to the beauty of the sea. Kessingland beach with its changing coastline and precious childhood memories was where dad was happy, I was sure.

A warm body rubbed against my leg.

Are you tired? I asked Lady, my dog, as I crouched in front of her.

She licked my face and cocked her head, her black eyes seeming to ask a question.

I smiled and scratched her ears. I’m fine Lady. I was thinking about how happy dad is here.

Lady gave me a playful shove then run off, surprisingly agile considering she had only three legs.

I shook my head. I was like a mother hen with Lady, always worrying she was tiring