The waves crashed in against the shore with a tumultuous roar, driving foam up over the sodden sand. It was the height of summer, early in the morning, and three figures left a trail of footprints in their wake as they walked with purpose to their destination. Overhead, dark clouds drifted lazily across the sky, coasting on the last vestiges of twilight before the break of a new day.

It had been six months since they'd last visited this part of the country. A place that held a special place in the hearts of all who'd been blessed enough to know of it. Although it was little more than a beach, some shops, and charming cobblestones, the people and the atmosphere made it so much more. It was the scent of fresh bread wafting from the bakery, the cries of seagulls overhead, the laughter of children running from the tide, the comradery of friends, the affirmation of love, hope, and joy.

It was, quite simply, home.

The man crouched, and the child clambered onto his back. He took the lead, climbing the well-worn path in the cliff's side to its peak while the woman followed, one hand raised and ready just in case the precious cargo should slip and fall. Together, the trio arrived at their destination, all three trembling against a sea breeze still carrying the whispering chill of night. Soon, the child was down, and the woman had hold of their hand. The man shrugged off his coat, spread it over the wiry grass, and gestured for his family to join him atop it.

'You know,' William Darcy said to the child once they were settled, 'that there's a legend about this place?'

The woman smiled, remembering the morning that she'd told him the same thing almost ten years earlier. William brought their daughter into his lap and secured his arms around her, wary of the dangers of being on a cliff and ensuring that she couldn't run to the edge. Beth leaned against her husband's side and rested her head against his shoulder.

'Like a story?' Charlotte – Charli – asked.

Already at six-years-old, she was a bright and inquisitive girl, with her mother's stubbornness, her father's logic, and a great deal of promise from them both. She leaned back against Will's chest, her dark brown hair tickling his chin while she stared out across the dark horizon.

'Yes, like a story,' he said. 'My favourite story.'

'What kind of a story?'

'About mermaids,' Beth said, 'and surfers.'

'Surfers like uncle Eric?' Charli wrinkled her nose. 'Is it a rude story? Auntie Poppy says that all the stories about uncle Eric are rude.'

Beth stifled a laugh behind her hand.

'Only the ones from before he met auntie Mandy,' Will said. 'He stopped being rude after that.'

'Because auntie Mandy doesn't take poop from anyone.'

Both of them laughed. Until recently, Charli had been saying crap, but Will had decided that this was a gateway swear and had been trying to train her out of it. To date, no one had confessed to teaching her this word, but Beth suspected that Freddie may have been behind it. He never taught her swears in French because it would give him away, but she'd always learned some interesting new phrase after a visit to the Parisian loft he shared with Meg whenever their relationship was back on.

It was an apartment stuffed with books from the floor to the rafters. One might accuse Meg of taking her work home with her given that she worked in the Bibliothèque Mazarine, a position of which she was immensely proud.

Strangely, whenever they were in Paris, Will and Beth never could quite find the time to visit with Madame Courtenay or Cosette. As far as they knew, they were both much as they'd ever been, and they only had themselves to blame for it.

Fortunately, Beth no longer had ties to the Courtenay family. Her mother had remained true to form and divorced Madame Courtenay's brother when the money began to run dry. The last the couple had heard, she was in Monaco with some Prince who owned a vast number of racehorses and a chain of boutique hotels.

Lisa and Chrissy were less frequent visitors to Beth and Will's home in London. Chrissy had moved to New York upon completing her degree in fashion and started her own design company, following in Lisa's mother's footsteps and capitalising on her contacts. Unable to stand their separation, Lisa had moved along with her and become a buyer because, as she so often professed, her first love had always been shopping. Beth hadn't heard of any serious attachments for either of them thus far but imagined that they were having fun, and that was the most that anyone could ask for them; that they were happy.

While Beth hadn't considered Wyatt and Georgia's relationship to have much of a future, she was pleased and surprised to say that he had done rather well for himself in her native country of Japan. After a visit to her extended family there, Georgia's grandmother had taken a shine to Wyatt and decided that he would do well as a teacher. Although Georgia was concerned about balancing her mixed heritage in a country she'd not lived in since she was a child, they both took to it well. Whenever they were back in London to visit with Beth and Will, Wyatt either remained quiet and took direction on social etiquette from his wife or gave them all space. Beth didn't know that she could ever consider him her brother, but she was glad that he was gradually improving.

'And why doesn't auntie Mandy take poop from uncle Eric?' Beth asked.

'Because she'd throw him in the sea!'

'That's right,' Beth told her daughter, giving her cheek an affectionate pinch. Will raised a disapproving brow. 'What?' she asked. 'Don't you want your daughter to be a strong and independent young woman?'

'Yes,' he whispered. 'One who doesn't think that pushing someone off a cliff is the answer to all her troubles.'

'I don't know,' Beth replied quietly. 'Throwing Gideon off a cliff all those years ago might have spared us a few issues.'

'What's a Gideon?' Charli asked.

A Gideon, as it happened, was a man who was still in prison and would stay there for as long as the justice system saw fit, to everyone's great relief and pleasure.

'Anyway,' Will continued, 'there are mermaids that live in the water out there.'

'Why?'

'Because that's where mermaids live,' he said.

A stunning explanation without a plot-hole in sight. One of the joys of being a parent was never needing to explain a story too deeply. Things were what they were simply because they were.

'They say that because the people in this town are so respectful of the sea, and treat it so well, that the mermaids look after all the surfers in the water. The surfers still need to do their best to be responsible and safe, of course,' Beth added.

She wasn't about to tell her daughter that she could do whatever she wanted in the ocean. To do so would be irresponsible parenting, and she hoped that Charli might come to enjoy surfing as much as she did someday.

'Of course,' Will added, 'because there are a lot of surfers and not a lot of mermaids, so you need to take care of yourself in case they're busy.'

'But the legend,' Beth continued, 'is that if a mermaid thinks that a surfer is in real danger, or too far away from the shore, they'll help them back to the beach.'

'What if they're super, super far away?' Charli asked.

'Well, if a surfer can't make it back to the beach, then they take them down to the depths and they become a mermaid, too.'

'I want to be a mermaid!' Charli announced. 'Then I wouldn't have to go to school!'

'Mermaids still go to school,' Will said. 'Fish schools.'

Beth groaned. 'Babe, that was awful.'

'Look, six years ago I became a dad, and that means I'm legally obligated to make dad jokes.'

'Some of them can be good, though,' she said. 'They don't all have to make me want to divorce you.'

'Daddy.' Charli tugged on Will's sleeve for his attention. 'Have you seen the mermaids?'

'No, but maybe your mother has?'

'I know someone who said he'd seen one,' Beth said. 'Zeke.'

'Bill's grandson?' Will asked. 'I'll have to ask him about that.'

'I'm sure he'd love to tell you that story.' Beth cleared her throat. 'Anyway, we're here to see something. You ready?'

Charli sat upright in her father's lap and clapped her hands. 'Yes!'

Every summer, on their first morning in town, William Darcy, Beth Darcy, and Charli Darcy watched the sunrise.

The first signs of dawn appeared, a burning orange which seared the clouds and danced upon the crests of waves below. A pinkish sphere crept over the horizon, little more than a firefly's glow in the distance, but above it, the sky was set ablaze. As it rose, the fire spread, chasing away the gloom of night and heralding in a bright new dawn. Pink turned to orange, and fire turned to gold, the light carried to the shore by each powerful roll of the sea. It glittered upon the damp sand and mirrored the heavens. Seagulls flew from their roosts and cried their joy to this new day, joining the chorus of the morning. Soon swathed in reds and yellows, the sun rose into the clouds, igniting each soft curve, each line.

Upon the ocean, it left a trail of gold, a magical path carved in light from the sand reaching on into eternity.

At last, the sunrise reached its peak – its enthralling crescendo – and the family felt their hearts rise with the sun until they, too, felt its warmth through to their very souls.

'I love it here,' Charli sighed. 'Can we live here?'

'Maybe someday,' Beth replied. 'We'll figure something out.'

'Mummy needs to be in London for work,' Will said. 'And we can't leave her there all by herself. You know that she can't live without us. We're the most important people to her ever.'

'I'm the most important,' Charli corrected.

'Yes, you are,' Beth assured her daughter, stroking her hair affectionately. 'But maybe we can see about two visits a year instead of one. How does that sound?'

'Yes! Then I can see grandpa, and grandma, and granny, and –'

Charli continued to reel off all the people she'd love to spend more time with as the family gathered up the coat, lifted their daughter, and began the descent from the cliffs. Together, they walked slowly back the way they'd come toward the café. The lights were on and the new owner was setting up the chairs outside. Sadly, Bill had since passed away, but Olly and Cassidy had kept things just as he had in his honour and memory.

A young boy was running down the ramp with a surfboard under his arm. Cassidy leaned over the balustrade and shouted, 'Blaise, you get back into this café this instant! No surfing until you help set up!'

'But, Mum!' he complained loudly. 'No one else is here yet! Please?! It'll be so busy later!'

'Don't make me come down there after you!'

Blaise groaned and turned around, his head hanging and shoulders hunched. 'Fine...'

Beth remembered the mornings she'd escaped from her father's garage all too well, how she'd run off to the beach just after sunrise with her friends and surfed until their limbs were heavy with exhaustion. Little Blaise was shaping up to be just like his parents, and she hoped that the surfing bug may yet bite Charli.

The boy was met by another young man who was swinging keys on his fingers and whistling to himself. He stopped when he saw him and ruffled his hair. 'Cheer up, kid,' he said, 'I'll smuggle you out later.'

Zeke flashed the boy a crooked smile, his startling blue eyes bright in the dawn light. His shock of black hair hid a multitude of piercings in his ear, and the high-neck of a wetsuit was visible beneath his t-shirt. Blaise smiled and ran off up the ramp, reassured that his almost-uncle would get him out of helping in the café to catch some waves before the beach was rammed with tourists.

Spotting the trio, Zeke raised a hand in greeting. 'Hey! You get in yesterday?'

'Yeah, just catching the sunrise,' Will said. He shook Zeke's hand once they were closer and asked, 'I hear you've seen some mermaids around here?'

Zeke's gaze travelled to Beth who smiled, and then down to little Charli who was enraptured by him, ready to hang off his every word. Knowing better than to shatter the illusions of a child, Zeke crouched down to be at her height and said, 'I need to go open the surf shack, but before you go home, I'll tell you all about the summer a mermaid pulled me out of that water. Sound good?'

'A real mermaid?' Charli asked.

'Well, if you ask me, she was.'

'Yes! Thank you, thank you!'

'I'll catch you later.' Zeke stood up. Before he turned to leave, he added, 'Oh, and tell Cass' to stop being such a stick in the sand. She was as bad as Blaise at his age.'

'You tell her,' Beth countered. 'I'm not suicidal.'

Zeke laughed and wandered away, whistling that same tune as he went. William bent down to pick up his daughter as a car pulled up beside the beach. Jenny and Charlie had barely aged a day since they'd graduated from Netherfield. Charlie had become a handsome young man who'd invested wisely in stocks and property and used the spoils of his success to become a philanthropist. Together, he and Jenny volunteered their time at home and abroad, helping the less fortunate and finding joy in making a difference in the world.

Their stocks were well cared for thanks to Will's investment firm, and the properties were managed by Chantelle's housing company. Her naturally bossy nature had given her an edge when it came to being a manager, and she was happily single, wealthy, and in charge of her own life. Although she still didn't wholly approve of Beth, she knew better than to say anything, lest she risk losing her brother, who was her most valuable client.

Not only had Jenny and Charlie made a difference to large communities, but they'd found room in their home and hearts to adopt two young Haitian boys whose parents had passed away and who'd been brought to their attention during one of their trips to the country. Anel and Evens had integrated into the family wonderfully, and Jenny and Charlie actively encouraged their education in their heritage, and for them to make connections that could help them better understand where they'd come from, and that they should always be proud of every chapter of their lives.

Beth was certain that she'd never met two people quite so good or kind as Charlie and Jenny, and had been proud to be able to name her daughter after one of their friends.

'You made it,' Beth said, catching her step-sister in a hug when she ran over. 'I missed you.'

'I missed you, too.' Jenny slapped Beth lightly on the arm in reprimand. 'That's for not waiting for us. We should have all come down on the same day.'

Beth laughed. 'Well, you're here now, aren't you?'

'Not the point,' Jenny pouted. The pout turned into a smile when she saw Charli. She gathered the girl up into her arms, relieving Will of her, and cuddled her warmly. 'There's my sweet little niece. Your mummy is so mean, isn't she?'

'Yeah, auntie Jenny is the nice one,' Charli agreed.

'Oh, thanks,' Beth retorted. She placed a hand over her heart. 'You know how to wound me. That went right to my feelings. Right here.'

Charli didn't take the bait or humour her mother's nonsense. Rather than prod and tease at her daughter, Beth was ready to hug her nephews when they arrived. Too cool to linger long with her, they fist-bumped their uncle instead. Charli soon wriggled out of her aunt's grip and they chased each other across the beach, all yelling and giggling like no time had passed between them at all.

Will opened his arms to welcome Charlie into a hug. Thanks to their respective marriages, they were brothers-in-law. They'd always felt more like brothers than friends, and at last, they could honestly call themselves family.

'Should we call them back so we can get breakfast?' Charlie asked as the kids played.

'No,' Jenny said, her hand on her husband's arm, 'let them come in on their own. They won't wander too far.'

'Stay out of the water!' Beth called to the trio. 'And don't stay out too long, or you'll miss breakfast!'

'Okay, auntie B'!' Anel called back.

'You're too slow!' Evens shouted to Charli who had no hope of catching up to her cousin.

'Is Mandy joining us?' Jenny asked.

'She and Eric will be down later,' Beth said. 'Dad said we should head up there for lunch, today.'

'Maybe you could play the piano for us again,' Will teased.

Charlie scoffed, 'William, please! She's a concert pianist. You can't just ask her for a free show. You need to buy tickets like everyone else.'

'I don't know,' Beth mused. 'I might be able to challenge myself to a rendition of Chopsticks for you. You know, if I can be bothered.'

'Funny. Cute,' William laughed. He smacked Beth on the backside gently. 'You're lucky I love you.'

Beth stood on her toes and kissed him tenderly. Afterwards, she looked out across the beach at the playing children, at her step-sister, brother-in-law, and up towards the café which would soon be filled with her friends.

'Yes,' she agreed, 'I am.'

'Well, Mrs Darcy,' Will offered her a hand, 'shall we?'

'Why, Mr Darcy,' Beth replied, 'I thought that you'd never ask.'