Chapter 19
19
The Hideaway, St Aidan
Cornets, chimes and bright ideas
Tuesday
‘T here’s no point looking at the colour when it’s wet, it changes as it dries.’
Mum and I spent quite a while wandering round the beach hut before we settled on how much wall to include in the feature area. We’ve painted the edges with small brushes, and the first inky aquamarine lines of the midnight ocean paint we’re using are already looking dramatic. And so far there’s more paint on the wall than on my threadbare shorts and old shirt.
Mum’s throwing out her thoughts as we work. ‘This is one of my favourite go-to shades. It’ll fly on once we start, which is why we only need two of us.’
I turn to check that Shadow is keeping his distance and see the wag of his tail get wider until it’s waving in large circles. By the time he’s jumping up and down on the spot barking his head off, Mum turns around too.
‘What’s Sophie doing here? And Maisie!’
I’m wondering the same. ‘She may have come to pick up the lanterns?’
My mum sniffs. ‘She probably wants input on the colour. You’d think she was the only person in St Aidan who’d ever made a mood board.’
‘Mum!’ I’m firing a warning shot. When it comes to interiors, she and Sophie get oddly competitive.
Decorating is still a mystery to me, so I need to check. ‘Haven’t Sophie’s houses all been white?’
There’s a knock on the French door, and Sophie’s already in the room answering. ‘Cream, actually, but I still know the Pretty Green chart inside out.’ She smiles at me. ‘Nice top, Floss.’
I grin. ‘Not my usual, but St Aidan’s pushing me to explore my wild turquoise side.’ She has so many this colour I can’t blame her for not remembering this was once one of hers.
Our mum is still tutting. ‘This isn’t a painting party, Sophie, there’s barely room for Floss and me as it is.’
Sophie pulls a face. ‘You’d better get used to a crowd, there are more coming.’ Then as my mum’s face falls as there’s a clattering on the deck steps, she backs down. ‘It’s only Nell, Clemmie and the children. We’re on our way to Busy Bee Storytime, but there’s important business to see to first.’
Mum puts down her brush. ‘We only have half an hour of painting to do, and I’m busy elsewhere after that, so this better be special.’
Clemmie leads Bud in, and by the time I uncover a chair for her and Nell, there’s another knock at the door.
‘Plum, too! Lovely to see you all.’
Clemmie sits down and arranges Arnie, then she squints at Sophie and me. ‘What’s with the twin vibe? You’re usually like chalk and cheese, and today you look very alike!’
I couldn’t have hoped for a better cue. ‘I’m wearing a Sophie cast-off top. It’s Ted Baker.’
Sophie’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘Why did I give that away? It’s gorgeous!’
It’s not often I get to tease her, so I laugh. ‘Different clothes suit different people.’ Then I laugh even more at her indignant look. ‘I’d give you it back, but you’d drown in it. It’s from when you had Marcus and Tilly.’ Only Sophie could be pregnant with twins and still be smaller than I am now.
She recovers herself. ‘That’s all right then.’
I stare around the circle of faces. ‘So what’s this about?’ Then, as Shadow starts to whine again, I check the deck and I turn to my mum with a sinking heart. ‘I’m sorry, I have no idea why Kit should be here, he knew we were painting.’ My heart sinks even further. ‘With Rye too.’
Sophie opens the door, and beckons them in. ‘We asked Kit over so we could share the news with you both at once.’
Yet another disadvantage of living so close. And when I glimpse Kit’s rear view in inky blue jeans, it hits me that dishing out advice to neighbours is another bad call that’s come back to bite me. Who’d have thought a simple swap from flannel to denim would elevate a disgustingly hot tush to off-the-scale can’t-keep-my-hands-off status? All in the most politically correct, unobjective way, obviously.
Mum must be thinking of her free smoke alarms more than she resents the disruption, because she greets the guys like long-lost friends, plants a kiss on each of their cheeks, then makes space for them on the dust-sheet-covered sofa.
As soon as they’re settled Clemmie begins. ‘So guess what? We’ve been offered a vintage ice-cream van for the evening this Sunday!’
‘Great!’ I have no idea what the fuss is about. ‘And that would interest me because…?’
Nell slaps her hand on her knee. ‘For the joint singles club evening you and Kit offered to do! What else would it be for?’
I take it from Kit and Rye’s broad yet entirely unsurprised smiles that they’ve known this for hours, if not days.
‘But Sunday is so soon?’ I’d counted on having at least a couple of months to build up to this. I’d actually hoped everyone would forget about it altogether.
Nell stares at her stomach doubtfully. ‘I needed a distraction.’ Then she perks up. ‘So many people have signed up to come, we couldn’t possibly send them all onto The Hideaway veranda, so we’ve gone to Plan B.’
The more I hear about this, the more it sounds like it’s been going on for ever.
Clemmie’s eyes are bright. ‘We thought an open marquee and bar next to Kit’s, then people can take their drinks into his to browse and have a tour of the studio. If we park the ice-cream van close by and put out your beach hut signs, you will have an independent base. That way you’re free to add in whatever else you’re comfortable with, and serve from there.’
Plum’s somehow manoeuvred herself right across the room and onto the slice of the sofa next to Rye, who is sitting there like a beach god in his Aztec trousers and sun-bleached T-shirt. She’s staring at me as she squeezes her shoulder in next to his. ‘You don’t even have to be there, Floss. But if you gave out teensy ice-cream cones and a few flyers, at least it tells the world that your business is up and running.’
Rye coughs. ‘Or, better still, how about a cake halt?’
Plum’s fuzzy adoring eyes as she stares at Rye could have come straight out of a Grazia piece, but even though her swishing ponytail keeps catching him under the chin, the inch of air between them suggests that she hasn’t progressed to the hands-on phase yet. Which unfortunately leads my gaze three feet to the left, where it lands on denim, stretched tight across Kit’s thighs. For a fleeting moment I regret my decision to be a thoroughly committed singleton, then I remember who I am, and redouble my resolve. It still takes a full ten seconds to unstick my own eyes from that view and get back to the business in hand.
Ducking out of the singles night might be my preference, but however much I’d rather have a hundred miles between me and High Tides, with the challenges ahead it would be rash to waste this opportunity. I need to embrace it and make it work for me.
‘So how many people are we talking?’
Kit raises an eyebrow. ‘Definitely less than a hundred and ninety-nine.’
‘Thanks, Kit.’ I can’t cope with jeans and attitude. I turn back to Nell.
She’s looking at her phone. ‘Forty to fifty. Sixty max.’
My chest implodes. There’s no way I can do that number. But then, I can ’ t afford not to.
Nell carries on. ‘The more you give them the more we’ll charge – and the bigger impact you’ll make.’
I stare around the expectant faces and screw up every bit of my courage.
‘I’ll do lucky dip puddings.’ I’m so far out of my comfort zone here, as I turn to Nell again it’s like some entrepreneur from The Apprentice has taken me over. ‘In mini ice-cream tubs to keep on theme. One tub per person –or two?’
Nell brings her fist down on her knee. ‘Call it three, and we’ll really put you on the map.’
‘Three it is!’ It’s like someone else is operating my mouth. It takes a minute to do the sums and when it hits me what I’ve agreed to, my blood runs cold. But it’s out there! It’s too late to turn back now.
As I see Rye’s smile fade, I take pity. ‘And there will be chocolate brownies too. For the purists.’
Rye gives the air a punch as he stands up. ‘Great! Now everyone’s on board and up to speed, we’ll leave you to your decorating.’
Kit sits forwards on the sofa edge and holds up a fan of tickets. ‘One last thing…’
Sophie’s like a terrier on a scent. ‘Are those … High Tides Spa vouchers?’
I can’t believe he’s brought this up again. ‘It’s more a girls’ night in a hot tub, with seaweed crisp snacks and salt-water fizz. Florence wasn’t sure last time I offered.’ Kit’s looking at me, querying.
Clemmie’s looking at me too, her eyes full of concern. ‘It’s always worth a second try, Kit. No pressure, Floss, but if you fancy giving it a go the rest of us will all be there to support you.’
Mum’s nudging my arm and Plum’s nodding so hard her head might drop off.
Sophie fixes me with her significant, hard-headed stare. ‘We have to admit, it would be so good to check the place out.’ And she has a point. Knowing what’s inside High Tides may well give me an advantage in the future. In fact, it could be another gift I’d be mad to turn down.
I drag in a breath, then I cave. ‘Absolutely,’ I say in a totally ironic way. ‘Why not?’
I can’t believe I’ve agreed to two nightmare evenings in the space of five minutes. But as they all troop off across the deck, I know it’s a measure of how scared I am. However much I dislike my neighbours, I don’t want to be pressured into losing my home.
And before I even get to think about this, there’s another party to get ready for too.