Janey repeated, her voice firm, and Bobbie was glad to hear it after the whisper-like shakiness of it of earlier. ‘One year from now I’d like to be able to say I’ve sold some paintings. I’d like to travel further afield to paint. I mean, I must have painted Totnes castle at least twenty times and there’s another castle at Berry Pomeroy that I’ve never visited even though it’s only a couple of miles down the road from where I live. Now I’m by the sea I’d like to paint it in all its moods and in all seasons. And I’d like to be able to say I am making a living at it. And that I’m half way to being divorced.’
Bobbie reached for a bottle of Prosecco that was still half-full. She topped up Janey’s glass.
‘That’s my girl.’ She took a swig of her own drink and swallowed hard. That was the thing – she, Bobbie, was old enough that Janey could be her girl. ‘We’ll drink to that. Who’s next for future dreams?’
‘I’ll go next,’ Lissy said. ‘One year from now I hope I’ve been brave enough to follow my heart and do what I really love, which is cooking, and not what I’m doing now to please my dear, late dad. Not that he said I had to become an accountant and take over his business, although he was pleased I did. So … one year from now you could be eating at my restaurant. The House on the Strand has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’
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