Page 20 - SAMPLE Talking the the Moon

Then she smiles. “Everything with you is a special occasion.”
The beach
The wind from the sea creeps under my clothes and into my bones. A woman hurries along the beach with her collar up, her hands shoved into her pockets. Two dogs circle her, yapping. No one’s swimming. It’s far too cold for normal, sensible people. A man carries a Fish and Chips sign out of a café, then stops to gaze at the sea. Two boys wheel stands of postcards and magnets, buckets and spades on to the promenade. A woman in joggers and a jumper is setting up the stripy deckchairs. Seagulls swoop and scramble around the bins.
Mimi waves at the deckchair woman, who shouts back, “Nice morning!”
The sea is perfect sparkling blue. The wind farm looks like a line of spinning matchsticks stretching across the horizon. White foam laps on to the beach. If you saw it without actually being here (like if you were looking at a postcard), you might think it was the middle of summer when, in fact, it’s October.
We sit close to the shore. Two seagulls circle above us hoping we’ve got food. (We haven’t.) Suddenly
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