Chasing the Sun

Judy Leigh

Description

From the Amazon charts bestselling author of Five French Hens and The Old Girls' Network comes a story of two sisters in their golden years embarking on the holiday of a lifetime, to find love, friendship and new adventures.

Molly’s seventieth birthday comes as a shock. The woman in the mirror looks every day of those seventy years, but inside Molly feels she still has so much more living left to do. Widowed and living alone with her cat, Molly fears she is slipping into a cliché of old age.

When Molly’s sister Nell appears on her doorstep, distraught that her husband of more than forty years, Phil, has left her for a younger lover, the women decide to seize the day. By the morning, flights are booked, bags are packed, and they're off to Spain.

The sun, the sea, the new friends and the freedom are just the tonic for broken hearts and flagging souls. But even Spain isn’t enough to revive Molly’s spirit so she decides to head off for a solo journey to continue to chase the sun and to chase happiness. Will she find what she’s looking for in a new country, or will she discover that true contentment can’t be found on a map? But it might just be found in a new flame...

Judy Leigh is back, with her trademark spirit of joie de vivre, fun, warmth and timeless lessons in how to live. Perfect for fans of Debbie Macomber and Robyn Carr.

Praise for Judy Leigh:

‘Brilliantly funny, emotional and uplifting’ Miranda Dickinson

'Lovely . . . a book that assures that life is far from over at seventy' Cathy Hopkins bestselling author of The Kicking the Bucket List

'Brimming with warmth, humour and a love of life… a wonderful escapade’ Fiona Gibson, bestselling author of The Woman Who Upped and Left

Sujets

• Romance contemporaine
• Humour
• Fiction
• Romance
• Family Life
• Holiday
• General
• The Women
• Woman
• General officer
• Sibling
• Romantic Comedy
• Friendship
• Coming of Age
• Women
• Humorous
• Siblings
• Holidays

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 08 avril 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781838895822
• Langue: English

Extrait

CHASING THE SUN


JUDY LEIGH
First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
Copyright © Judy Leigh, 2021
Cover Design by Debbie Clement Design
Cover Photography: Shutterstock

The moral right of Judy Leigh to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Paperback ISBN 978-1-83889-581-5
Large Print ISBN 978-1-83889-580-8
Harback ISBN 978-1-80162-695-8
Ebook ISBN 978-1-83889-582-2
Kindle ISBN 978-1-83889-583-9
Audio CD ISBN 978-1-83889-575-4
MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-83889-576-1
Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-83889-579-2


Boldwood Books Ltd
23 Bowerdean Street
London SW6 3TN
www.boldwoodbooks.com
For Liam and Maddie
CONTENTS



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38


Acknowledgments

Sabores Tapas Recipes

More from Judy Leigh

About the Author

About Boldwood Books
1


Friday 13th August
Whoop whoop! Today, it’s my 70th birthday and I’m going to have fun. A Leo, that’s me – I just looked up my characteristics: ‘confident, drama-adoring, loyal, fiercely protective of their nearest and dearest, generous, sunny, and big-hearted, with a tendency to be reckless and rootless’. That’s definitely me to a tee. So, three birthday cards just arrived in the post – one from my lovely Samantha in Cumbria, one from dear Nell. The other one’s from R’s sister in Scotland, who must be eighty now, bless her. A new decade starts today – it’s going to be brilliant, I just know it. Carpe diem – seize the day. I can’t wait to get started…
Molly stopped writing, turning the turquoise diary over in her hands thoughtfully. ‘Seventy…’ She stretched her arms above her head. ‘A whole new decade. I wonder what I’ll do.’
She gazed around the living room, looking at the paintings on the wall, the untidy sofa covered in cat hairs and squashed cushions, the mantelpiece crammed with knick-knacks brought back from her many travels: miniature clogs, an oversize mug sporting the word ‘Croatia’, a kora-playing Gambian Jali carved from wood, a tiny metal Eiffel Tower.
‘Seventy,’ she murmured again and wandered upstairs to her bedroom where she’d left the vacuum cleaner. She could vacuum up quickly before breakfast. A big birthday was a new start, as good a reason as any to clean the house. Molly scratched her head. ‘What I really need to do is to get the chores out of the way, then it’s time for some fun.’
She picked up the vacuum cleaner, listening to the deafening whirr of the motor, and began to shove it across a rug, singing at the top of her voice to block out the noise. Fluff had collected in straggling shreds in the corner of the room. She watched it slide into the nozzle, twizzle and disappear. Then she paused, turning off the motor, and shook her head in disbelief.
‘Home is where the heart is,’ Molly observed, matter-of-factly. ‘But my home is full of cobwebs and dust. Maybe I need a new one. Perhaps I’ll move somewhere exciting… Now that would be a thing. Florida might be nice…?’ She let the nozzle of the vacuum cleaner fall from her hand, suddenly changing her mind. ‘August’s too late for spring cleaning. I’ll just change the bedding.’
Molly bounded towards the bed but as soon as she glimpsed her reflection she stopped, staring into the wardrobe mirror. A woman with a cheerful face, a mane of slate-grey hair, wearing a baggy T-shirt and loose jeans paused for a moment too and stared back. Molly turned sideways and gazed over her shoulder. A smiling woman gazed boldly into her eyes. Molly laughed.
‘So, this is as good as it gets at seventy, is it? I see…’
She raised her arms above her head and howled in protest, a wild throaty yell, shaking her hair over her face. She was a strong cave woman, primitive and self-sufficient. She was fierce Boudicca. She was valiant Joan of Arc. But she was still seventy. She told herself she didn’t care how she looked. It was too late to worry now; anyway, it didn’t matter. Then a new thought came to her, a brilliant idea.
‘I don’t have to be reminded every day that I’m seventy.’
Molly rushed into the third bedroom, the one she used as an office, which was piled high with artist’s materials and all sorts of once-useful junk. She saw an old cricket bat standing upright in the corner, heaved it over her shoulder like a professional batsman, muttered, ‘Howzat!’ and marched back into her bedroom. There was nothing to be gained from looking at herself. She spoke directly to her reflection in the mirror.
‘Right,’ she grinned. ‘That mirror has got to go. I’ll smash it out and leave a hole, maybe put a colourful painting in there. Then I won’t keep noticing that I’m no longer twenty-five. That’s how to start a new decade – I’ll love the person I am – and I won’t focus on small imperfections.’
She lifted the cricket bat high: a woman with a primitive weapon raised over her head stared back at her, dressed in a voluminous T-shirt and jeans that were two sizes too big, rolled up at the bottom, bare feet splaying out below. Molly smiled at the ludicrous image of herself, poised, ready to attack. Of course, it would be dangerous to chop out a mirror. There would be fragments, shards, flying slivers of glass. And smashing the mirror to smithereens would not change the stark reality: she was a single, solitary, seventy-year-old woman who always claimed to be sixty-five when people asked because age didn’t matter. She never considered that pretending to be sixty-five would make her two years younger than her half-sister Ellen Spencer – always called Nell since childhood – who was pretty, happily married and perfect in every way.
Molly knew she shouldn’t care. Nobody noticed how she looked anyway. She had arrived at this point in life and her face and body had arrived with her. It had been an interesting journey. It was a shame to destroy the mirror, Molly conceded, just because she wasn’t young any more. She would still look the same, and there would be a lot of clearing up to be done afterwards.
Molly took one last look: she hardly believed how much seventy years had changed her. She still felt the same person as she had been at thirty, at forty, but the years suddenly seemed to have accelerated away. Molly stood sideways and pulled in her stomach, thrusting out her chest. She turned away from the mirror and smiled over her shoulder, wiggled her bottom, posed, waved an arm in the air to acknowledge her fans, like a pop star. Her body wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought, it was strong and solid. She posed again. She looked all right really, she thought, if you didn’t look too hard at the chin. And the wrinkles.
Molly shrugged, the bat dangling in her hand. Her former prettier younger self may have gone forever, but it had been replaced by a wiser, stronger older woman. She had her health and her humour: she was fine as she was. Who cared? Not Molly, not really, not any more.
Molly decided she’d put the cricket bat back in the small bedroom, then she’d make a cup of coffee and a slice of toast with peanut butter and concentrate on enjoying her birthday. The weather outside was perfect: it was a hot summer’s day. She would welcome her new decade by sharing breakfast in the garden with her cat who definitely believed she was still young and beautiful, especially at mealtimes.
Fifteen minutes later, sitting on a bench in the garden with a tray on her lap, Molly hummed a little birthday tune. She sipped strong coffee, the delicious aroma in her nostrils, and nibbled at peanut butter on wholemeal toast. Birthdays were good: she intended to have many more. She gazed over the lawn and into the neighbour’s garden, where the sound of clipping suggested that Vanessa was attending to the hedge. Molly noticed her side was unkempt and overgrown, and resolved to trim it later for the sake of her pleasant, cheerful neighbour who, despite being single now too, managed to hold down a busy job and keep her house immaculately tidy and the garden ship-shape.
Molly surveyed the lawn, covered in thistles and in need of a good mowing; the bird bath was broken; the shrubs were straggly and untidy and the small cluster of fruit trees resembled a meadow: weeds, dandelions and daisies sprouted everywhere. She didn’t mind; she had to admit that chaos suited her, and she’d rather be chomping through a second slice of toast than attending to a rambling disorderly garden. The thought that she and the garden were two of a kind made her smile. Vanessa popped her head over the newly clipped hedge and smiled, waving a slim bare arm.
‘Hi, Molly. I thought I heard you moving around. Are you enjoying the sunshine? It’s beautiful out here today.’
Mol