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Book Description
You’re doing what? You can’t go away on your own, Mum. Not at your age!’ It was ‘Not at your age’
that made Audrey decide that she was going away, even if it was the last-damned-thing-she-ever-did.
She was a widow, not dead. Life must go on!
Olive has spent the last fifty years married to George, who has made it his life’s work to control every
aspect of her day. What they ate. What she wore. Whom she spent time with. So, when her mother
leaves her an inheritance, Olive seizes the chance to book her dream holiday. Will she be able to lay
some memories to rest or does George have other ideas?
Lucinda, mother of teens, has lost her way since her ex cheated on her. It’s not so much Netflix and
chill as Netflix and Sauvignon Blanc. Her loving, despairing widowed father persuades her to take a
trip with him to Croatia, where he holidayed with her mother. With no better offers on the table, she
reluctantly agrees to go.
As Audrey, Olive and Lucinda begin their holiday in beautiful Cavtat, one person’s misfortune begins
to benefit them all. And as they become the most unlikely of friends, they realise that you are never
too old to seize the day, to live life to the full and to make memories to last a lifetime.
Extract
She wasn’t afraid to show off her body in those days. Sliding her cotton dress over her
head, she removed her underwear, arranging it carefully onto the rock. She let the water lap
over her feet, feeling its coolness against the warmth of the sand that worked its way between
her toes. Slowly she walked into the water. At first it took her breath away. Goosebumps ran
up her body, but, as she slipped into the water, she began to feel invigorated. Gently she
swam towards the end of the pool where it opened to the sea. The water was as clear as glass.
She lay, almost like a snow angel, arms and legs spread, eyes closed. It was the salt content in
the water that was keeping her afloat. It was paradise. The early rays of the sun warmed her
tanned skin where it was exposed from the water. She swam a little round the rocks then lay
in the waters staring up at the azure sky above her.
Feeling a little cold now, Olive thought she had better head back in. Swimming back into
the rock pool, she then sat on the beach. She turned to look for her towel and clothes,
realising she couldn’t see them. She stood and looked over the rocks. She thought they had
possibly slipped down the other side. No, they weren’t there. She searched around. Surely she
would remember where she had left them?
Suddenly she heard a snigger, then two sniggers, almost a snort. She scanned the rocks
and there, to the left, she noticed two young boys, only about ten years of age, waving her
clothes in the air. Realising, with horror, that she was naked, she tried to cover herself whilst
shouting at the boys.
A man’s voice abruptly broke the air. The two boys bounced up from behind the rocks,
running as quick as they could back up the stone steps. Olive turned around and that was
where he was! Andro stood dressed in just his swim shorts, tall, tanned, dark hair. In one
hand he was holding her towel in the air to camouflage his view of her. To spare her decency.
With his other hand he held out her clothes to her.
‘I guess these belong to you.’
Olive felt incredibly exposed, standing there, naked, in front of a stranger.
‘Yes! Yes, thank you, they are mine.’
She grabbed the towel, wrapping it swiftly around her bare body. Andro still stayed there;
his eyes closed.
‘Can I look yet?’
Olive smiled at him, standing there with his eyes squeezed shut.
‘Yes.’
She thought how kind it was of him not to embarrass her any further.
‘Those two, I’m afraid, are my cousins’ children. Looking for mischief, as always!’
He passed her the rest of her clothes. Olive stuck her sunhat on her head.
‘I didn’t expect anyone would be here at this hour of the morning.’
Andro laughed.
‘Obviously!’
Olive looked shyly at him.
‘I didn’t see you here either?’
She wondered where he had been hiding. Andro pointed across to the highest point on the
rocks.
‘I was fishing off the rocks there,’
Olive looked at where he was pointing. She wondered just how much he had seen.
‘You work at the Hotel Sunset, don’t you?’
Olive was a little surprised that he knew where she worked.
‘Yes, I do. How did you know that?’
‘My Uncle owns the hotel,’
‘Ah, Mr. Maric? He’s your uncle?’
Andro smiled at her; his eyes seemed to penetrate through her.
‘Yes, he’s the one!’
Andro took a seat on the rock next to her. Olive could feel the warmth of his body next to
hers.
‘How long are you here for?’
She shuffled, a little uncomfortable at his closeness.
‘Until the end of September. It’s just for summer.’
Olive looked at him as he sat next to her. He was even better-looking close up. Olive had
felt her pulse quicken as he reached out his hand to her.
‘Andro Maric.’
She took his hand. It was warm against her slightly cold, wet one.
‘Olive Jamieson.’
Andro had held her hand a little longer than needed. Just a few seconds, but Olive felt the
connection surge through her body. She felt herself flush.
‘Well, Olive, maybe I could show you some of my wonderful homeland, when you have
some free time, of course?’
‘Oh. Erm.’
Olive hesitated. She was a little surprised but delighted all the same. Why shouldn’t she
accept?
‘Yes, that would be lovely. I’ll try to be dressed appropriately next time.’
Andro gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Don’t worry about that for me!’
Olive felt herself flush again. That was the day their friendship had started.
Author Bio
Born in London, Cheryl grew up in Cheshire. Cheryl married Phil in 1991 and that same year they
moved to Scotland where they both worked in Edinburgh & grew a family of two children. In 2011,
with the young adults off at University, Cheryl’s dream of living in France became a reality.
Renovating an early 19th-century farmhouse, in 2014 Cheryl & Phil made the permanent move to
the Creuse region of southwest France, opening their B&B.
Whilst Cheryl had talked of writing a novel for many years, between the demands of full-time work
and all that comes with a young family, there never seemed to be the time.
Moving to France brought the opportunity of a (slightly) quieter lifestyle, and then Coronavirus
arrived, pausing the world, halting the B&B and delivering long stretches of precious free time!
So,
one such time- led day, Cheryl typed an opening sentence into the computer. After eighteen months
of writing, re-writing, and learning how to publish later the debut novel; “In My Mother’s Footsteps”
was ready.
What was originally a dream to simply write a book “one day” had become a tangible result. Cheryl is
now on her third, book due out this year, and plans to keep writing! If you would like to contact
Cheryl, she would love to hear from you. www.facebook.com/cherylwaterswritescherylwaterswrite
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