Chapter 19
‘Would you look at that sky,’ Chris said.
Grace stared at him in disbelief. ‘Chris!’ She was tempted to reach over and thump him. Was he deliberately winding her up?
‘I’m serious; look at it.’
‘Stop teasing and just tell me.’ Nevertheless, Grace took a moment to stare out at the unbroken vista in front of them. The sky was washed pale blue with streaks of light shimmering beneath it, like a bolt of blue silk shot through with gold thread, and the sun was beginning its slow descent toward the line where the sea and sky met. In the distance, a ship was visible, a dark, hulking outline meandering north on the undulating, calm body of water.
Despite her impatience, Grace exhaled slowly, her breath cool on her bottom lip, and her shoulders loosened. It was a view that was good for the soul. The sort of view that made her want to take up yoga and learn how to meditate. There was nowhere more beautiful than Emerald Bay on a summer’s evening.
One day, she’d live beside water, Grace vowed. Right now, though, she had other things on her mind. Like throttling Chris if he didn’t spit whatever it was out in the next ten seconds. ‘There – I’ve looked. It’s beautiful. Satisfied.’ She unbuckled her seat belt and twisted toward him.
The click of his seat belt sounded, and he met her gaze. Grace’s fingertips were beginning to tingle with the awareness of how close to each other they were. The mellow base notes of his aftershave gave off an intoxicating hint of spice. It was making her dizzy, and his eyes, oh, those eyes, they were the exact shade of her favourite pair of jeans.
Focus, Grace.
There was nothing else for it. Radishes, radishes, radishes! She repeated this three times like the character in that old film they had on video somewhere, Beetlejuice, desperately trying to picture the little red brassica. Her nose wrinkled, and her top lip curled as she imagined oniony, peppery breath..
‘Grace, are you OK?’ Chris’s brow creased, and he sniffed sharply as though trying to catch a whiff of something. ‘Only you look like you trod in dog shite or something.’ He put his hand in front of his mouth and huffed into it.
Feck.Grace flicked the image of the round, red salad vegetable away. She’d made him think he had bad breath! This required a quick-fire, gameshow reply, but all she could say was, ‘I was flashing back to my dad earlier, is all. He goes berserk with the peach air freshener after a visit.’ Now she just sounded plain mad, bringing up toilet-related issues. She gave up with a shrug. ‘Forget it and put me out of my misery.’
Chris’s lips curled at the corners with bemusement, and then, at long last, he got to it. ‘We have sponsorship for the festival.’
‘What?’ Grace squealed.
‘We have sponsorship. Houston, we have lift-off.’
‘That’s amazing!’ Grace was jiggling in her seat as if she needed the bathroom, which wouldn’t help him forget what she’d just said about her dad. Her excitement needed to be channelled somewhere, though! Then, before she knew what she was doing, Grace launched herself at him, barely registering his startled face as she flung her arms around his neck. ‘It’s really going to happen! Nothing is standing in the way of Emerald Grooves now!’
Chris got over his shock and laughed at her behaving like she’d won the lottery. ‘Except licences and permits and all that jazz, but yeah. It’s good news all right.’ He gave her a clumsy pat on the back. ‘We make a good team.’
Grace disentangled herself, too happy to be embarrassed. ‘Oh, don’t be worrying about all that red tape. Isla Mullins will know which hoops we’ll have to jump through.’ She was the force behind most events in Emerald Bay and would get behind anything she saw as good for business. ‘Who’s agreed to fund the festival?’
‘My dad. Or rather, Dorrance Dreamscape has.’
Grace’s mouth dropped open, but given she’d already come across as a bumbling fool, adding gormless to the list wouldn’t make any difference. ‘But why?’ she eventually tossed out.
‘Honestly, I don’t know.’
‘Well, I think it’s brilliant. I think you’re brilliant.’ It slipped out before she could stop it.
He shifted in his seat, a clue to his embarrassment at the compliment, but nevertheless, he looked pleased. ‘That’s not all either.’
Grace listened in disbelief as he listed the bands he’d manage to get a firm yes from, having made a few phone calls once his dad had agreed to back it. If she recognised one or two of the names, others would, too. Her eyes were enormous, and her hands steepled to her mouth as she processed names like Whiskey Rebellion and Acoustic Alchemy. It took her a second to register what else he’d said.
‘For the record, I think you wanting to help your friend like this is pretty amazing, too.’
Grace flushed with pleasure then made murmurings about only doing what anyone would be doing, and it had been his idea, after all.
Chris cut her off. ‘Lots of people talk about doing things, Grace, but you’re actually doing it.’
She didn’t know what to say to that, and so their mutual admiration society saw an awkward silence settle between them, until finally, Chris cleared his throat. ‘Do you fancy heading down to the bay? I could do with a blowout.’
‘Me too.’ Grace was grateful to escape the car and let the air cool off her hot cheeks.
She waited while Chris locked the vehicle, and once he’d pocketed the keys, they set off down the path. It was single file only, and if Mrs Tattersall ever ventured down to the bay, a phone call would have been made to the council regarding the rampant growth of coastal grass threatening to smother the path. The spring growth had yet to be trimmed back, and green and yellow grasses formed an arbour for the tiny creatures that might venture onto the path, simultaneously slapping at Grace’s legs as she followed behind Chris.
‘You almost need a scythe,’ she called out.
Overhead, a few seagulls circled lazily, and below her, she could hear the shushing waves that signalled the tide was in. How many times had she toddled, skipped, run, walked down this path? She smiled at the happy memories of laughter and sunshine, lazy days spent on the beach whiling away those long-ago summer holidays.
It was true that life seemed to speed up as you grew older. It was a worrying thought, because she was only twenty-four. Sure, by the time she was her nan’s age, it would whizz by like she was behind the wheel of a Formula One car.
She was surprised by her mind flitting back to the canal boat she’d seen for sale the day she and Chris had met the rest of the Shamrockers to talk about the music festival. She imagined it would be such a lovely, slow pace of life, bobbing about on the water like so, and if you were fed up with one vista, you could just move along to the next.
There was one final bend in the path, and then, there it was – Emerald Bay! A horseshoe curve of sand with frothy white water lapping at it, fringed on either side by rocks. Grace put her hand up to shield her eyes, watching the dog cavorting down by the water’s edge.
‘Shane proposed to Ava over there,’ Grace told Chris, pointing to a patch of beach before pausing to slip her shoes off. She was suddenly desperate to feel the sand between her toes.
Chris did the same. ‘Did he?’
‘Yeah. It was very romantic.’ She straightened and squidged her bare feet in the gritty sand. ‘I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him, but he spelled out “Will you marry me?” with pebbles and had the champagne on hand. He did well.’
‘Good on him. It obviously worked. I’ll take note.’
Grace felt the air seep from her lungs. Was he thinking of proposing to Ulla? Surely not?
She didn’t get to churn this over further because Chris was pointing to the rocks. The idea made her queasy.
‘Shall we sit over there? It might be a little more sheltered.’ The salty breeze was stronger down here near the water’s edge than in the car park, and it was ruffling his hair.
She suddenly wanted to smooth it away from his face and tell him Ulla wasn’t right for him, but she kept herself on a tight leash.
The seawater swirled over their bare feet as they clambered over the damp rock mounds. Chris caught her by the elbow, preventing her from turning her ankle on the slick rock she was climbing onto.
‘Thanks.’ Grace shook him off, still fretting over the thought of him and Ulla making things permanent.
Chris seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil as he pronounced a dry rock out of the water’s reach suitable to sit on. Grace sank down next to him but not too close and took a few slow inhales, telling herself she was jumping to conclusions, because Chris didn’t seem ready to settle down seriously. He was too focused on his music for that. And, she told herself sternly, she would have to keep a handle on her attraction to him, because she could wind up spoiling everything. The festival had to come first.
‘I miss this place sometimes,’ Chris said, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice. ‘I’d like to live closer to the water one day.’
‘Do you see yourself coming back to Emerald Bay?’ Please don’t say no because you’ll live in a log cabin by a Finnish lake existing on a diet of salted fish. She was very culturally unaware when it came to all things Finnish; she didn’t actually know what sort of houses they resided in or what their diet typically consisted of. She didn’t even know if they had lakes, for that matter.
‘No.’ Chris shook his head, flecks of gold glinting in his blonde hair. ‘London’s a good base, and I like the diversity of a big city.’
‘I don’t see myself here permanently either.’ Grace stared at her toes. The blue polish was chipping. ‘I mean, I love being back here and seeing Mam, Dad, Nan, everyone, but I can’t wait to leave either. It starts to feel claustrophobic.’
She surprised herself then by telling him how she’d been thinking about the canal boat they’d seen moored up along the Regent’s Canal path. ‘Not that I’ve any money saved to buy it, but I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘The idea of it really appeals. Being on or beside the water is my happy place.’
She glanced at Chris in time to see his eyebrows lift. ‘What?’
‘I wouldn’t have had you down as wanting to live on a canal boat.’
‘Actually, neither would I. But I do. Of course it would involve some serious wardrobe downsizing, but it’s a sacrifice I’d be prepared to make.’ Grace was only half joking.
For some reason, this made them laugh, and when their laughter dried up, Chris pinned her with his blue eyes, and just for a moment, Grace thought he might kiss her.
Of course, he didn’t.
Instead, he got to his feet, brushed his jeans off and said, ‘C’mon – I should probably get you back to the pub.’