No one remembered who had first had the idea, or why that particular location had been chosen, but for as long as Pippa could remember, there had been an annual family picnic held every summer in the country park outside the city. The family in question, of course, was her husband Mike’s large and ever-expanding tribe. Pippa herself was an only child and had often thought one of the reasons she had married Mike had been because he came as a package deal with three sisters and numerous cousins.
The girls had all been bridesmaids at their wedding, the memories of which still made Pippa smile after all this time, despite how things had ended. And now, after almost twenty-five years, she still adored all three of them. Funny, noisy, warm and welcoming, they had made clear to Pippa from day one that she was one of them now.
The girls had allowed her to become like an extra sister during all the years of growing up, having babies, bringing up children and looking after elderly parents and relatives. It was the kind of family Pippa had always dreamed of belonging to and so when she had first brought up the subject of divorce with Mike, after years of them just getting by in their marriage, her overriding concern wasn’t about the children – now grown up – or the house, but rather, whether she would still get to remain part of the family. Mike had dismissed her concerns.
“Don’t be daft, Pip – of course you’ll still be part of the family. I’m pretty certain my sisters.
