The Beach Hut Club (Romance, comedy and friendship)

Chapter 1

Glancing at her watch, Beth squinted against the bright afternoon sun to see the Number 64 bus emerge from around the corner and trundle towards her. The training course she’d been attending, How to Manage Your Time More Effectively, had finished early and she wasn’t expected back at work until the following morning. She could jump on the bus and go home, slip on her new yellow sundress, put a bottle of wine in the fridge to chill and make a chicken and avocado salad. When Matthew arrived home, he would be pleasantly surprised and they could spend the evening curled up on the settee.

The queue at the bus stop all stood a little straighter, slipping phones into pockets and grabbing shopping bags, eager to be home and relieved that they could finally escape the punishing heat of the city streets.

Beth paused. Or she could go back to the office and finish the client report sitting on her desk which would make the following day a great deal easier. Which also meant that she could travel home with Matthew. The wine wouldn’t be chilled and she would have to wait for a shower because Matthew always seemed to get to the bathroom before she did. And he would probably suggest a pizza for tea rather than a salad.

But it would be worth it, she decided with a smile, because even after two years of sharing their garden flat on the outskirts of Bristol, Beth still felt ridiculously happy whenever they arrived at the front door together, holding hands and ready to step inside. Even if she always had to wait for the shower.

The brakes squealed as the bus stopped, but Beth continued walking. She would go back to the office, she decided. She would finish the report and go home with Matthew. And, as an added bonus, she could walk past the small jewellers and see if it was still there.

Ignoring the crowd of people now pushing onto the Number 64, Beth continued walking, her pace picking up slightly. The previous week, she and Matthew had been walking back to the office, hand in hand after a shared lunch. The city centre was wilting beneath a summer heatwave and as she’d pushed her sunglasses up a slightly sweaty nose, it had come into view, catching the light and reflecting a dozen sunbeams in her direction. It was small and delicate, an oval ruby flanked on each side by a trio of tiny diamonds and she hadn’t been able to stop the small gasp from escaping. It was perfect, exactly what she would choose, if anyone asked her to choose an engagement ring that was.

Matthew had followed her eyes.

‘What are you looking at?’ he’d asked, scouring the window display. His eyes had lit up and he had taken a step closer to the window.

‘Lovely!’ he’d murmured appreciatively.

The ring sat next to a pair of ornate gold hoop earrings and for a moment, Beth wondered whether he was looking at the ring or the earrings. But he had taken her fingers in his own and squeezed them gently, before lifting them to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

Beth’s heart had begun to flutter deep inside her chest and it hadn’t stopped since. Was Matthew about to propose?

When Matthew had first asked her, hesitantly and with a bashful grin, if she would join him for a drink after work, Beth had accepted with an almost unseemly speed. The handsome architect, with his blond hair and light blue eyes, had caught her attention within days of Beth starting work in the same city office. She had watched beneath her lashes as he walked along the corridor by her desk and blushed furiously if she found herself sharing a lift with him. A couple of times she thought she had seen him glance her way and once he had definitely smiled as he held the door open for her. So, when he asked one evening if she would like to join him in the wine bar a few doors away from the office, it never even occurred to Beth to say anything but a speedy yes.

That first night had passed by in a blur of conversation and laughter as they discovered so much in common, that they’d hardly stopped talking. Sitting in a corner of the noisy bar, two glasses of Pinot neglected and growing warmer by the minute on the table between them, they had ignored the rise and fall of the chatter all around them, totally engrossed in the other’s life story.

At the end of the evening, Matthew had walked her to the bus stop, holding her fingers tightly in his own and Beth had closed her eyes, wondering if it was foolish to feel so happy and excited after just one evening.

Almost three years later, Beth still felt both happy and excited. She loved their flat, the kitchen which wasn’t quite big enough for both of them at the same time, the rather squishy settee where they curled up to watch TV, the bedroom with its lopsided headboard and even the slightly inadequate bathroom with the dodgy plumbing. It was their home and she loved sharing it with Matthew. She was utterly content with their lives.

But if Matthew was about to propose, Beth was ready. She was ready to discuss the possibility of a house and babies and a future that involved the two of them. She was ready to become Mrs Matthew Pettigrew.

She’d even allowed herself a little daydream where Matthew suddenly appeared in their living room, one hand behind his back as he asked her to marry him before producing the ruby ring and slipping it on her finger.

Pressing her face to the window, she could see the ruby ring still sitting in the window, twinkling in the sunlight and beckoning a finger on which it could find a new home, although the hoop earrings were gone and replaced by some rather pretty pearl drops, and with a happy smile, she continued on her way to the office.

Beth’s desk was on the fourth floor of the large building occupied by Stretch Your Horizons Architectural Service. The open-plan area was freezing in winter and relentlessly hot in summer. Over the last few days, the gentle tapping of keyboards had been overtaken by the soft whirring of fans and the occasional flapping of flushed faces. Maybe she should have gone straight home after all, thought Beth as she exited the lift and felt the temperature increase by several degrees. Now she would be arriving back at the flat with her dress clinging to her back and no desire to cook anything.

Pausing only to glance at her emails and say a cheery hello to her fellow workers, she walked back to the inner lobby and up to the sixth floor where Matthew worked. She could message him to say her plans had changed but how much better if she delivered the news in person and could see the smile on his face.

Despite the company’s constant denials, everyone knew that the air conditioning was far more efficient the higher up the building you travelled. On the very top floor where the CEO had his nest, it was positively arctic. The sixth floor was occupied by people such as Matthew, would-be executives hoping eventually to make it to the top floor and no matter how hot and sticky the day, a constant blast of cool air surrounded them.

Beth looked around at the sea of workers all looking calm and collected, not a single fan whirring. Beyond the array of desks was a corridor housing a line of firmly closed doors, including Matthew’s, and at the head of the corridor perched a desk occupied by a small, dark-haired woman who paused in her rapid typing and watched as Beth approached.

‘Is Matthew in his office?’ Beth asked the woman who guarded access to the corridor as ferociously as a lioness protecting her brood. No one accessed any of the secluded offices without getting clearance from Shirley first.

Hardly pausing, because Beth knew the answer would be ‘yes’ followed by a smile and an instruction to pop along and visit him, she was brought to a halt by a restraining hand held aloft as Shirley peered over her horn-rimmed glasses.

‘Beth! Matthew said you weren’t coming back this afternoon.’

‘The course finished early. I was about to go home but then I decided it was the perfect time to catch up with some work.’ Because, as the entire office knew, Beth was ridiculously conscientious, hardworking and always far too keen to please. ‘Is Matthew in because…’

‘Why don’t you go back to your desk and I’ll let him know you're here?’ suggested Shirley, her horn rims swivelling in the direction of Matthew’s door.

‘It's okay, I don't mind waiting if he’s on the phone,’ reassured Beth. ‘I'll be quiet!’ and she began walking down the corridor.

‘No! Really, I think you should go back downstairs and I'll tell him you’re here.’

Beth laughed. Because Shirley was clearly having a small joke at her expense. Why on earth would Beth go back to her desk and insist that Matthew come down two floors to see her when she was already here?

‘Anyone would think you didn’t want me to see him,’ she chuckled. ‘It will be a nice surprise because I told him I wasn’t coming back.’

She gave the older woman a big grin and continued down the corridor to open Matthew’s door, relishing the cool air and the thought of his expression when he saw her.

‘Surprise!’ she announced gaily.

She could still hear Shirley’s objections drifting down the corridor and for a moment she thought she understood. Why hadn’t Shirley simply explained that Matthew wasn’t in? And that someone else was using his office, although she was struggling to make out who it was sitting in his chair. Tilting her head to one side, she gazed in confusion at the silk blouse behind the desk before realising it was someone with their back to Beth, someone sitting astride a figure in the chair, someone held firmly in place by a pair of strong hands that were running caressing fingers passionately across the silk-clad back.

Oh heavens, she thought, her eyebrows raising. Matthew would not be impressed if he found his office was being used for a clandestine meeting in his absence.

‘I'm sorry,’ she apologised, stepping backwards. ‘I didn't mean to interrupt!’

The roving hands stopped, clenching the silk frantically for a moment before disappearing from sight. The gyrating back also stopped, as did the soft moans that had been filling the office.

For a moment, neither figure in the chair moved and deciding that she would rather not know who was occupying Matthew’s chair, Beth half turned towards the door.

‘Beth?’ asked a strangled voice. ‘What are you doing here?’

Beside her was a row of perfectly symmetrical certificates and diplomas, all declaring Matthew to be the very embodiment of a qualified and responsible architect, together with a photograph of the two of them taken at the office Christmas party, seven months earlier. He was standing with his arm around her, gazing down at her adoringly as she clung to his chest looking ecstatically happy. Her gaze settled on their faces, his slightly ruddy from an excess of champagne, her hair beginning to fall from its sleek chignon. They really should take photographs much earlier in the evening, thought Beth, when lipstick was still in place and updos remained up.

The door was only a few steps away and for a moment she considered walking out, back down the corridor and returning to her own desk. She didn't have to acknowledge the shocked voice, or turn around and face the chair where the writhing had been replaced by the sound of clothes being rearranged.

But even as her heart told her to run and hide, she turned slowly, her teeth biting hard onto her bottom lip as she prepared herself.

The two quivering bodies had parted, a slim blonde woman now standing by the desk and Beth could see Matthew clearly, sitting in his chair, feverishly rearranging his shirt and tie.

For a moment the whole room spun slowly around, Beth’s legs shaking so much she wondered if they would continue to hold her upright as her mind searched for an explanation that wouldn’t involve breaking her heart.

‘Matthew?’ she whispered, her face white. ‘What…what are you...’

‘You said you weren’t coming back to the office,’ he croaked, his eyes swivelling in panic between Beth and the woman by his side. ‘I thought you were going straight home.’

‘The course finished early and I had work to do…’ Beth shook her head. Why were they talking about work and her early return? Why weren’t they talking about what had been happening on Matthew’s knee?

‘What’s happening...what are you doing…’ she began, her voice cracking as horror began forcing its way up her throat. This couldn’t be happening, this wasn’t happening.

Dropping his eyes, Matthew developed an obsession with the buttons of his shirt which weren’t lining up even as he tugged and fiddled with them.

‘Matthew!’

‘I didn’t know you were coming back,’ he muttered, as he fastened the last button and snatched at the tie that was draped jauntily across his monitor. ‘You said you weren’t coming back.’

‘But I did,’ Beth cried out. ‘I don’t understand…’ her voice broke again and one hand crept upwards, pressing itself against her mouth as she tried to stop herself from sobbing.

‘Matthew! Talk to me,’ she tried again as his eyes refused to meet hers, pinning themselves to his desk as he wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. ‘What’s going on?’

The woman slipped her silk blouse back into her skirt, running a light hand over her tousled blonde hair and tucking it behind her ears, the light from the window catching the pair of ornate good hoops she wore and almost blinding Beth. She slid her feet back into her shoes and waited for Matthew to answer, before sighing impatiently.

‘I would have thought it was obvious,’ she said, her voice cool. ‘It’s exactly what it appears to be.’

Matthew’s eyes opened wide and he reached his hand towards her.

‘Laura,’ he said, his voice pleading. ‘Please don’t…’

‘Don’t what?’ She brushed his hand away with a small tut. ‘She’s just found us together, darling. It’s time to tell her.’

Beth’s eyes flew back to Matthew. Darling!

Why was Laura, daughter of Lester Carmichael, owner of the company, calling Matthew darling? Why was she in Matthew’s office without her shoes on? And why had she been sitting astride Matthew in his chair?

‘Matthew?’ Beth whispered, her lips trembling so much it was difficult to get the words out. She tried to remain calm, hanging with grim determination onto the hope that Matthew was about to give her a perfectly reasonable explanation for the writhing and the moaning. Especially the writhing. ‘Tell me what’s happening!’

She needed him to stop staring at his shirt and take her in his arms. She needed him to rub his chin on the top of his head as he always did when comforting her, to hold her steady against his chest where she could hear his heartbeat, another of her favourite occupations. And she desperately needed him to tell her that she had misunderstood the situation, that he loved Beth with all his heart, just like she loved him.

‘Tell me!’ she insisted, her voice rising in panic.

Finally standing up, Matthew raked his hand through the blonde hair that Beth loved to run her own fingers through, and nibbled on a lower lip that Beth had spent some time kissing only that morning.

‘Beth…’ he began, his eyes flitting feverishly between Beth and Laura.

‘What!’ Beth almost shrieked. Why was he still standing by his desk? Why wasn’t he at Beth’s side, reassuring her that she was having some kind of hallucination, a heat-induced nightmare?

‘What do you need to tell me?’ she begged taking a step towards the desk.

‘Er…’ he mumbled. ‘Er, actually…er’

Beth wondered if her heart was going to burst. Why was Laura looking at him so impatiently? Why was he looking everywhere but into Beth’s eyes?

‘Matthew,’ she sobbed, ‘look at me. Tell me…’

‘We’re in love,’ interrupted Laura, with the faint suggestion of an eye roll as Matthew stuttered and stammered his way into another silence.

Beth gasped, one hand creeping up to rest on a heart that she had just heard crack.

‘What,’ she asked faintly. ‘What did you say?’

‘It’s been going on for a while actually but Matthew is very fond of you,’ said Laura with a small shrug. ‘And being such a kind person, he couldn’t bear to break your heart.’

Whereas Laura, apparently, had no such qualms.

‘He hasn’t found the right time to tell you. But I think it’s good that you’ve found out. No more creeping around, no more pretending.’

Who had been pretending, wondered Beth, the blood rushing through her veins and her breath coming in short jagged bursts. She loved Matthew. Matthew loved her.

Tears began to gather on her eyelashes, turning the two people in front of her into shadowy images caught in the afternoon sun. Her head was swimming, every limb shaking.

‘Matthew…’

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, his eyes swivelling anywhere but in Beth’s direction. ‘It’s er…it’s true. Laura and I are, well we’re…’

‘In love!’ declared Laura firmly. ‘We’re in love.’