The Ache of Summer

Simon and Donna followed the porter up to their hotel room. As soon as he opened the door, the couple gasped at the stunning view. They were not used to such luxurious accommodation on the seafront.

The unpacking could wait. Ignoring their suitcases, they wandered hand in hand onto the balcony to take in the sea view.

It was just like a scene from the postcards Simon’s parents sent to relatives in the '70s. With the sea air and the sound of seagulls and children playing, his mind flashed back to childhood for an instant.

Memories of playing with a tiny plastic motorboat in shallow water on the beach with his dad brought a tear. Before Donna could notice, he quickly wiped it away — he was determined not to spoil this day. There would never be another quite like it.

Donna pointed out the cafe at the end of the pier and the cable cars on the mountainside. Like Simon, she also had childhood memories that came flooding back.

* * *

After resting for an hour, they left the hotel and strolled along the promenade, passing the Punch and Judy puppet booth, which had closed years earlier.

Donna needed to rest, so they bought ice cream and found a nearby bench. As they rested, Simon went into a world of his own for a minute, trying his best to absorb every detail of the scene. The warm sun, the children cycling, the little boy who had dropped his ice cream, and the feeling of Donna by his side.

Donna’s voice snapped him out of it.

“I love it here,” she said. “Even if the seagulls do always sound like they’re laughing! We should come here more often.”

“We should,” Simon agreed, trying to remain strong and composed.

An elderly couple walking hand in hand smiled at them as they passed by. Donna said, “If they can keep walking, so can I! Let’s take a cable car ride up the mountain!”

“Are you sure you want to walk up that steep slope to the lower station?” Simon asked, fighting a pang of envy for the elderly couple's decades together.

“No problem!” Donna said.

* * *

It took Simon and Donna twice as long as usual to reach the cable car station because she needed to rest a few more times. But eventually, they boarded a cable car.

Simon knew his memory wasn’t the greatest, so he felt compelled to photograph everything they saw.

Donna smiled. “You and your photos!”

Simon felt torn between living in the moment and recording it using his camera. He was desperate to capture the way it felt.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the upper station. When the attendant opened the cable car door, he seemed slightly impatient as Donna struggled to get out quickly.

Donna was keen to look around the gift shop at the top of the mountain. Simon knew she would have to buy something.

* * *

As the couple sat in the mountaintop coffee shop, enjoying a view of the bay, Donna handed Simon a small paper bag.

“I got you something,” she said.

“What am I going to do with you?” Simon replied, smiling as he took the crumpled bag.

He opened it and found a snowglobe containing a model of the mountain and cable car.

“It’s lovely! Thank you, darling!” Simon said as he kissed Donna.

“I don’t ever want us to forget this day,” she replied, as she reached to hold his hand.

Simon held the snowglobe tightly, turning it slowly as he fought back his tears. The tiny cable car moved up and down the miniature mountain, just as the real one had earlier.

With Donna’s hand resting in his, for a moment, everything seemed perfect. He yearned to save every detail in his heart — from the sunlight on the bay to Donna’s laugh, and the way her fingers felt.

Suddenly, memories of his plastic motorboat from childhood surfaced again. It was an ache he carried quietly, like that toy boat from childhood — always drifting just beyond his reach.

* * *

© 2025 Alan J. Edmonds