Will and Testament // Sequel to the Rosie Grey series

Chapter One

"Don't go too far, Izzy! Stay where we can see you!" Father called from the beach.

"I know!"

I ventured a little closer to the water, my bare feet sinking into the sand and the remnants of the wave washing over my toes. Mother had decided it was far too cold for me to go swimming but after countless minutes of begging, she had relented into letting me dip my toes in the water. My boots and stockings had been deposited on the blanket that Mother and Father sat on and I was itching to get my feet wet.

Despite it being April, and still too cold to do much of anything at the seaside, Mother and Father had decided that we were to take a spontaneous trip south for a few days. We had been to the funfair, had several ice-creams and even managed to visit a travelling circus. Our days at the seaside were coming to an end and none of us wanted to leave without at least one trip to the beach itself. Trips to the seaside weren't the same without them.

The water lapped at my ankles as I walked a little further down the sand, holding the hem of my dress up a little so it wouldn't be splashed. I curled my toes against the sand and tried to ignore the icy-cold feeling of the water on my legs. Mother had been right about it being far too cold for swimming. When the water reached my calf, I stopped walking and just stood there, letting the waves knock against my bare legs as the sun beat down from above.

"Isabel! We need to go if we're going to make the train." Father's voice carried on the wind.

"Five more minutes?" I turned around to face them.

"I'm afraid not. You need to dry off."

"Your father's right, Izzy, we need to get going."

I huffed and slowly waded out of the water, kicking it up as I went and ignoring the spray that covered the bottom of my dress. Small stones and shells dug into my bottom of my feet as I made my way back up the beach to the blanket. Father handed me a small, white towel, gesturing for me to sit on the edge of the blanket to dry my legs and feet so I could put my stockings back on.

Once my legs and feet were dry, I slipped back into my stockings and put on my boots, lacing them as tight as I dare. I could still feel grains of sand rubbing the bottom of my feet and I knew I would be finding sand in shoes for weeks to come. Still, an impromptu trip to the seaside wasn't something to complain about.

When Mother was my age, it had been years since she had last even stepped foot outside of London, although she had never told me the reason why. Since then, she often decided that we were going on a train ride south even if it was the dead of winter and far too cold to be so close to the water. I once heard Father say that it was her way of reclaiming her lost child, but I never really understood what that meant. Mother never spoke much of her childhood.

Once I had laced my boots on, I helped Mother and Father pack up the blanket before we walked up the sand-covered slope to the walkway that led to the ice-cream shop and the fair. I stood on the edge of the walkway and looked down at the white sand on the beach and the waves as they crashed into the shoreline. The sunlight danced off the water in a way that mesmerized me and had since the first time I saw it. I could never get bored of that sight.

"Come on you," Father said. He placed a light hand on my shoulder and steered me away from the edge of the walkway.

"Do we have to go back now? I don't go back to school until next week and it's only Wednesday. We could stay here longer."

"I'm afraid not. I still have patients to see, both at the practice and the hospital."

"You know, you remind me of your cousin," Mother said, "he used to complain about leaving places. Mind you, he was three."