Chapter 22
Beth stared, her mouth hanging open.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she managed to splutter. ‘Of course not. We don’t get on, you know. Not at all!’
‘Really? Because I only saw you together briefly yesterday and you certainly didn’t look at each other in a way that suggested dislike.’
Beth tried to close her gaping mouth. ‘How was he looking at me?’
But Sarah had stood up, smiling enigmatically as she did so.
‘Oh, I was obviously wrong,’ she said smoothly. ‘If you dislike each other, I must have been mistaken.’
Beth frowned.
‘But what did he look like? What did I look like?’
‘Oh, you know. Intrigued, curious, tempted. All the things you feel when you meet someone you want to know better.’
Her mouth was hanging open again and closing it firmly, Beth followed Sarah’s lead and stood up.
‘I don’t know how you got that impression because we do not get on at all,’ she declared firmly. ‘Not one little bit. We annoy each other. A lot actually. There’s no simmering anything between us. Unless it’s frustration.’
Sarah shrugged her shoulders. ‘Okay.’
‘We definitely don’t think of each other in that way.’
‘So you said.’
‘Not at all.’
‘I see.’
‘And anyway, he’s got a girlfriend. A fiancée actually.’
That stopped Sarah, and the smile slipped from her face.
‘Portia? I thought they’d split up. Didn’t she have a fling with his best friend?’
She certainly had but Jake loved her, according to Lavinia. And when you loved someone, you could forgive their misdemeanours as Sam and Lavinia had just demonstrated. Did that mean Beth hadn’t loved Matthew? Not enough anyway.
‘They’re getting back together,’ muttered Beth, remembering Jake walking out of the front door of his cottage and staring out to sea, no doubt contemplating the importance of not letting true love pass you by.
‘ Puts things into perspective,’ he had said to her. Had it put into perspective the prospect of losing Portia when he could forgive her and move on?
‘Then I’m wrong and I’m sorry for teasing you,’ said Sarah briskly. ‘Let’s stop talking about silly things like true love and get to the more important subject of your paint colour. Are you going to be brave and stick with Ice Cream Sprinkle Pink? ’
Making a mental note to be very careful with the way she looked at Jake in the future, Beth cast her gaze around the repaired hut and imagined her Aunt Lizzie looking through the colour charts. She wouldn’t have given Hampton Delight a second glance. It would have been bright pink, sunshine yellow and sky blue all the way.
‘Yes!’ she declared on impulse. ‘I decided to keep the hut and repair it in Aunt Lizzie’s honour. The least I can do is stick to the colour she would have liked.’
Sarah clapped her hands ‘Atta girl. At least one person on the beach has the gumption to stand up for themselves. I wanted to paint our hut yellow but Darren nearly had a heart attack when I suggested it! Now, you may have lost Jake and Sam but I’ve got nothing better to do. Not today. Or tomorrow, not for the entire week if I’m honest, so why don’t I help you?’
‘Oh no! I couldn’t ask you to do that!’ Beth stared at Sarah’s designer dress in horror. It wasn’t at all suitable for painting and decorating and it would cost Beth a fortune to have it replaced if Sarah were to get paint all over it. ‘You’re not dressed for it and I keep telling everyone, I can paint on my own.’
‘I’m sure you can,’ said Sarah happily, ‘but why should you? How much more fun to paint with friends and don’t worry, I always have spare clothes in the hut. I find shorts and T-shirts much more comfortable for walking along the beach.’
‘But…’
‘And it will be something for me to do.’
‘But…’
‘I used to love painting. Before Darren made all his money and insisted on getting the decorators in.’
‘But…’
‘And,’ began Sarah, playing her ace card. ‘How are you going to carry all that paint down to the hut? My car is parked just over there. I can take you to the shop.’
Beth paused. How would she get all the paint to the hut? She would have to buy one large can at a time and carry it down the main street and along the harbour wall, brushing tourists out of her way as she went.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked cautiously.
Sarah nodded hopefully.
‘Okay then. Thank you, I would love some help.’
‘Yaay! Ice Cream Sprinkle Pink , here we come!’
The paint was now stacked up and ready to cover Number 4, the walls had been cleaned ready for a day of painting the following day and Beth and Sarah were trying valiantly to put together one of the kitchen units.
‘Jake made it look so easy,’ grumbled Beth, sweating profusely as she pushed and pulled at the unit which was refusing to move. Blowing upwards to move the strands of hair stuck to her nose, she gave another shove and managed to get it in place beside the sink.
‘How do you suppose the doors fit?’ she asked, holding up one of the very complicated hinges. ‘I saw Jake put one together and it only took two minutes but I can't work this thing out.’
‘It can't be that difficult,’ said Sarah confidently. ‘We’re two intelligent women, we can work it out.’
Trying to follow the rather inadequate diagram, Beth worked out which way the hinge needed to be placed, twiddling with it every which way before carefully sliding on the door, Sarah holding it steady while Beth tightened the fastening.
‘Done!’ declared Beth triumphantly. ‘You can let go.’
‘Told you it couldn’t be that hard,’ whooped Sarah and released her grip, only for them to watch as the door slid gently downwards, hitting the floor and bouncing slightly before settling next to the tins of paint.
‘What the…’ exclaimed Beth. ‘But I tightened it and everything.’ She stared at the door laying on the floor. ‘I don't understand.’
Beside her, Sarah began to snort with laughter as she looked again at the diagram. ‘Ah! Maybe it was because we forgot to attach the hinge to the unit first?’
Beth snatched the wrinkled paper and read it again in disbelief, before lifting her eyes to watch Sarah trying to stifle her laughter.
‘Whoops!’
Beth should be cross, it had taken them forever to put together one unit and fail to hang the door, but she could feel the giggles building and she watched Sarah drop to the floor, rolling between the paint tins and the discarded instructions for the kitchen cupboards, tears rolling down her face.
‘Oh dear,’ gasped Sarah weakly, ‘There’s nothing like a bit of DIY for making you feel inadequate,’ she said, wiping the tears from her eyes and sitting up.
‘I think I’ll have to wait for Jake to be free to do the kitchen,’ wheezed Beth, holding her side. ‘Maybe we should stick to the painting?’
There was a noise at the door and a plaintive voice floated in.
‘What is going on in here? It’s really difficult to concentrate when you two do nothing but laugh.’
Jemima’s sulky face appeared, her eyebrows winging up as she saw the two of them, dirty and dishevelled and rolling around the floor.
‘Has there been an accident?’ she demanded, stepping gingerly over a pile of empty boxes. ‘Do you need me to phone for an ambulance? Or the police? Sarah, have you been attacked?’ she asked, her voice rising in concern as she took in the dirt down one side of Sarah's face and the scratches on her arm. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh, relax Jem. Of course we’re okay. We've been working on the kitchen.’
Jemima’s eyes widened, horror flooding her face.
‘Working!’ she gasped. ‘You’re working on Beth's kitchen?’
‘Struggling to her feet, Sarah wiped her hands on her shorts and nodded.
‘That’s right, Jemima. Working.’
‘You’re helping her?’
Jemima’s face was almost comical as she stared from one woman to the other. ‘You’re helping her repair her hut…I mean cabana?’
‘I certainly am,’ said Sarah cheerfully
‘But, why?’
‘Why not? Beth needs some help and I haven't got anything better to do. And besides it’s fun?’
Beth wondered if Jemima was about to pass out, her face was pale and one hand was wandering upwards to cover her mouth in shock.
‘Fun,’ she gasped. ‘How can it be fun?’
‘You came to complain about the laughter Jem, doesn’t that tell you something?’
Enjoying the exchange, Beth perched herself on a box smiling at the complete bewilderment on Jemima's face.
‘Does Darren know what you’re doing?’ asked Jemima, putting her hands on narrow hips.
Sarah’s smile slipped. ‘Whether Darren knows is irrelevant. Unlike you, I do not have to run my every action past my husband. I am his equal, not his possession.’
‘But you’re doing physical labour! And what about your nails?’ wailed Jemima. ‘Oh Sarah, you'll break all your nails, and I know the beauty parlour is booked solid for the next week because I’m having to go into Weymouth for an appointment. And how can it be fun? How can working with horrid dusty things be fun?’
‘Well, it’s a lot more fun than reading the same magazine for the umpteenth time and getting your nails done just so you have someone to talk to,’ said Sarah shrugging her shoulders. ‘I’ve enjoyed every minute of helping Beth.’
Jemima looked blank, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘I just don't understand why you would want to help,’ she said in a puzzled voice. ‘Or get dirty, or do all this work.’
‘Or laugh, or enjoy myself, or make a new friend?’
‘You two are friends now?’ asked Jemima, and Beth wondered if that was a hint of envy she could detect.
‘Yes,’ said Sarah, casting a peep in Beth's direction. ‘Yes, we are.’
‘You can join us if you want,’ said Beth, taking pity on the slightly forlorn expression creeping across Jemima’s face. ‘I can find you something less dusty to do.’
‘Work! On your hut?’
Sarah giggled. ‘Yes. Come on, Jem, relax and have some fun with us. We’re having a wonderful time.’
There was a long pause and Beth began to wonder if Jemima was going to overcome her aversion to actual work and pick up a paintbrush so she could at least be part of something.
But Jemima shrugged her shoulders. ‘Bully for you,’ she said rudely. ‘Well please keep the laughter and the enjoying yourselves thing under control. I’m trying to read,’ and off she flounced, leaving Beth and Sarah laughing even more.
‘She’s not a very happy person,’ suggested Beth, when their laughter subsided. ‘Even when her husband is here, she doesn’t seem to smile a great deal.’
‘You’re right,’ sighed Sarah. ‘At least I love Darren. He may be turning into the world’s worst husband and behaving like a complete prat, but I love him. And he still loves me. He just needs to work on his priorities and at the moment I am not one of them. But Jemima’s husband is a nasty piece of work. Why on earth she married him is beyond me. I knew her years ago, you know. We were at university together and she was so much fun, totally lovely and a pleasure to be with. She always said she was going to bag herself a rich husband one day but we thought she was kidding. Anyway, she got one, but at a price. He treats her like he would treat his secretary, it’s all commands and orders. I feel sorry for her but she did bring it on herself.’
‘Poor Jemima,’ said Beth quietly.
‘Well, she has to take it because he holds the purse strings. Everything Darren and I have is in joint names. Jemima doesn’t own anything. It all belongs to him and he’s told her she has the use of it while she’s his wife. She had to sign a prenup and everything.’
Sarah’s chattering had stopped as she concentrated on packing her bits and pieces back inside the large straw bag she’d brought with her.
‘Can I come and help tomorrow?’ she asked shyly.
‘Of course! I mean, if you’d like to?’
‘Oh yes.’ Grinning Sarah headed for the door, only to stop and throw her arms around Beth’s neck. ‘I meant what I said,’ she murmured, ‘I haven’t had this much fun in ages. Thank you,’ and she disappeared out of the door, her long legs striding towards the Range Rover parked at the end of the cobbled lane.
Watching her for a moment, Beth wondered at the change that had overcome the row of brightly coloured beach huts. They had originally been built for the townsfolk but seemed to have turned into a refuge for lonely women who for all their wealth and status, remained profoundly unhappy. Whatever would Aunt Lizzie have to say about it all, she wondered, and locked the door to head back to Welcome and a hot shower.
‘Am I too late?’ asked a voice over her shoulder and jumping, she turned to find Jake watching.
‘Oh, yes. We’ve decided to finish for the day.’
‘We?’
‘Sarah asked if she could help.’
Jake nodded. ‘Sarah is lovely,’ he said. ‘One of the few Craggy Heights wives I would describe as such.’
‘We’ve got the paint ready for tomorrow,’ she told him, thinking that he looked tired and deciding she wouldn't mention the kitchen units just yet in case he insisted on sorting them there and then. Working at Craggy Heights must be a more demanding experience than working on the beach.
‘I see you went for pink,’ he commented, inspecting the tins as Beth gathered together her things and began to lock up.
Beth opened her mouth to snap that there was nothing wrong with pink, only to stop herself. Maybe it hadn’t been a criticism, maybe she was too quick to presume Jake’s disapproval.
‘It used to be pink,’ she said instead and he nodded.
‘I remember. A perfect colour for a beach hut.’
She gave him a quick look, searching out the disapproving twist to his lip, the sarcasm in his tone. But there was none. Had she been judging him too harshly? What had Sarah said -that he had looked intrigued, curious, tempted? She felt her cheeks flush. Beth may have been wrong about several things recently but she was quite, quite sure that Jake didn’t feel remotely tempted by her.
They fell into step as they headed back towards the cobbled lane.
‘Thank you for all the help you’ve given me,’ she said breathlessly. Sarah had insisted builders didn’t give up their jobs to help people they didn’t know for no reason. That he had looked at her with interest. That he had seemed tempted. Her heart began beating a little faster.
‘It can’t have been easy when you had your own job to do.’
They were walking side by side and in a few moments, they would reach the front door of the little cottage, positioned on the very end of the street before the road gave way to the beach. He shrugged and she wished she could see his face instead of his profile and the ever-present sunglasses.
‘I’ve enjoyed it,’ he admitted. ‘It’s certainly a change from working amid the splendid perfection of Craggy Heights.’
She wondered if he would stop at his front door, say goodnight to her and disappear inside. Was Portia waiting for him? Had they made their peace?
Heart pounding, she continued walking, counting the steps until they were in line with the blue door. But he didn’t pause, he didn’t even glance sideways as they walked past the stone cottage. Maybe he had found it too hard to forgive Portia after all. Did you decide to forgive your errant fiancée and return to her side if you were feeling tempted?
‘Still, it was a very kind thing to do,’ Beth ploughed on, her cheeks full of colour. ‘And I don’t think I said thank you properly at the time.’
She peeped up at him as they dodged the late afternoon tourists who were milling along, exclaiming over the views. ‘In fact, I’m not sure I said a proper thank you at all. I tend to end up angry with you and then my manners disappear.’
He stopped, making an elderly couple swerve around him, and pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead, sea green eyes meeting uncertain blue ones. His mouth was curved upwards but for once Beth decided he wasn’t mocking her, he was simply amused.
‘You do get angry very easily,’ he agreed solemnly. ‘You can be quite frightening at times.’
‘I am not,’ she answered crossly, before gasping and covering her mouth with her hand. ‘Oh dear, that sounded cross, didn’t it?’
He nodded gravely despite the twinkle in his eyes and she couldn’t help the giggle that burst out.
‘You seem to bring out the worst in me,’ she confessed. ‘Do you do it on purpose?’
‘Not at all. I don’t have to do anything to make you angry.’
It was true. But despite anything he may say to the contrary now, she was certain he had been equally frustrated by her at their first meeting.
‘I will try not to become cross with you so easily in the future,’ she promised with a straight face. ‘If you’ll stop saying things that you know will make me angry.’
‘In the future?’ he asked lazily. ‘Do you plan on spending more time in Welby-on-the-Sea after Number 4 is finished then?’
Beth had given very little thought to what she would do once the hut had been saved. Go back to work and her flat, she supposed. Find a new life without Matthew.
‘I hope to,’ she said cautiously. ‘When I can.’
He was smiling, a gentle smile with no edge of mockery. ‘Then it’s a deal,’ he said, holding out his hand in her direction. ‘We’ll both be on our best behaviour- in the future.’
His hand was warm and firm, reassuring, and for some reason, Beth didn’t want to let it go and they stood there for a long moment, the sound of Welby surrounding them, their hands clasped.
‘I suppose we’d better get back,’ said Beth eventually, pulling her hand back by her side and hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. ‘I think Lavinia was planning on making us all a meal tonight. To celebrate Sam coming home. Or back to Welby and Lavinia at least,’ she gabbled, feeling strangely nervous at the thought of sitting opposite Jake as they ate beneath the romantic lights on the balcony. ‘Anyway, we’d better put a move on. I need to shower before we eat.’
‘I need a shower myself,’ agreed Jake, pushing the glasses back over his eyes. ‘But I’ll have to give the meal a miss I’m afraid.’
‘Oh?’ Her heart lurched. Why was she so disappointed?
‘Other arrangements,’ he said carefully. ‘Not something I can change I’m afraid.’
Beth shrugged. ‘That’s a shame. I know Lavinia will be disappointed. Are you going anywhere nice?’
There was a pause, a long pause as Jake stuffed his hands back in the pockets of his shorts. ‘I’m going to the Craggy Heights restaurant,’ he said eventually. ‘With Portia.’