Chapter 28
Jemima’s entrance was slightly ruined by one of her impractical high heels sinking deep into the sand and hurling her sideways. Fortunately, one of the council members alerted by her small shriek, threw out a hasty arm which she clutched onto, hauling herself upright once more.
She tossed freshly highlighted hair over her shoulder and continued towards the small crowd gathered, although Beth noticed that her eyes were skittering away and she wasn't carrying her usual air of frosty entitlement.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ said a soft voice near her ear and she felt her hand taken into a much larger grip and given a soft squeeze of support, before he removed it to flip his sunglasses down over green eyes.
As Jemima drew closer, she risked a peep at Beth’s anxious face and Sarah’s admonishing expression, only to stare in astonishment, her mouth hanging open. Rubbing her eyes, she craned her neck forward and squinted at the row of huts behind Beth.
‘There are two pink cabanas!’ she exclaimed, her head swinging around to the gathered crowd. ‘I don't understand,’ Shaking her head, she counted slowly from right to left and then stopped in astonishment, staring at Sarah.
‘You painted your cabana pink!’ she exclaimed. ‘Pink!’
‘Good morning, Miss Carter,’ said one of the men, all looking remarkably similar in their navy blazers and grey trousers. ‘Thank you for meeting us here.’
‘Morning Henry,’ trilled Lavinia, letting go of Sam’s hand long enough to offer a friendly wave.
‘Ah, Lavinia. How nice to see you.’
‘Morning Henry,’ said a deeper voice and Jake stepped forward to take Henry’s hand in a friendly handshake.
‘And you too, Jake. Good morning, everybody.’
Beth’s mouth gaped open in surprise. It hadn’t occurred to her that the council officials would be residents of Welby and known to her friends. To Beth, they were faceless figures of authority to be dreaded.
She caught another of the men, a little younger and with slightly less grey hair, sending a small wink in Lavinia’s direction and her heart suddenly lifted with hope. Was there a chance after all?
‘Pink!’ echoed Jemima’s voice. She tried to come closer but her heels sank into the sand again and impatiently she pulled them off and threw them carelessly to one side. ‘But why? When?’
Straightening his tie Henry held up his hand, ignoring Jemima as he waited for everyone’s attention.
‘The purpose of this meeting is to carry out an inspection of Number 4, the beach hut belonging to Beth Carter, and ascertain its condition and suitability,’ he said in a loud clear voice. ‘There has been a claim made that it posed a health and safety risk to the other beach hut residents, and indeed any member of the public availing themselves of the beach facilities.’
Beth nodded solemnly, wishing Jake would take her hand again. It had felt safe and reassuring, although not something she should get used to, not now he was back in the arms of Portia.
‘But I understand that a programme of restoration has been completed and the hut has been repaired to a satisfactory standard,’ Henry continued.
‘That’s right.’ Jake stepped forward, his hands for once not in his pocket and his voice confident. ‘I helped out myself, Henry. All rotten timbers replaced, the roof repaired, the decking restored. The place is now sound.’
‘Any problems still needing work?’ asked Henry, turning his back on a still astonished and spluttering Jemima and looking at Jake, who was having trouble concealing his grin.
‘There’s still some interior work to finish,’ Jake conceded. ‘The kitchen still needs some units replacing but that isn’t a matter for health and safety. In fact,’ he continued, ‘Mrs Carrington-Smythe was without a kitchen for several weeks when she carried out the renovations to her own hut.’
‘Only because we were waiting for a new marble counter,’ Jemima said, slightly offended that she might be put in the same category as Number 4. ‘Dominic ordered one specially from Italy and it took an age to arrive.’
Ignoring her, they all turned to look at Beth’s sparkling beach hut.
‘Excellent, excellent,’ murmured Henry, stroking his chin as he viewed the little hut that appeared to be standing to attention and showing its best features to the crowd of viewers.
‘Shall we gentlemen?’ he said and leaving Beth and her crowd of supporters, the council officials took a slow turn around the property.
Taking advantage of their absence, Jemima turned to Sarah and Darren. ‘You’ve painted your hut pink!’ she said in horror. ‘Two pink huts on the beach, Dominic will be livid. When did this happen?’
‘Yesterday,’ answered Sarah helpfully and not seeming at all put out by Jemima’s outrage. ‘While you were having your hair done and buying a new dress for the occasion.’
It was a very nice dress, thought Beth admiringly, floating down to Jemima’s immaculately pedicured and painted toes. Perhaps a little over the top for a walk along the beach at Welby-on-the-Sea, but very nice.
‘But why?’ wailed Jemima. ‘Why would you do such a ridiculous thing? I mean pink! Can you imagine what Dominic will say? He will be so cross with me…er, you! What were you thinking Sarah, why would you do this?’
‘Well, everything looks ship-shape,’ announced a cheerful voice and Henry appeared from behind the hut, a clipboard in his hand and a smile on his face. ‘Well done, Miss Carter. You’ve done an excellent job with the renovations.’ His eyes wandered around the group clustered around Beth. ‘You all have,’ he added with a big smile. ‘And we have no hesitation in passing the hut safe. The compulsory purchase order is rescinded.’
‘Thank you,’ Beth managed, her voice hoarse with emotion. ‘Thank you so much.’
Henry smiled at her kindly before his face fell and Beth shivered with anxiety.
‘Now,’ he cleared his throat. ‘We also have to raise the matter of the licence. We have been informed that Number 4 is in breach of one of the conditions of the Beach Hut Club. And that someone has objected to its final appearance.’
All eyes turned to Jemima who dragged her eyes away from the pink huts to face the slightly antagonistic glares of almost everyone around her.
‘Er, yes,’ she mumbled, peeping at Beth from beneath her lashes. ‘That’s right. We...we…’ she paused, her gaze dancing between an agonised Beth and a furious Sarah. ‘That is, my husband has objected to the colour of Number 4. Dom…er, The Cabana Club would therefore like the licence for Number 4 cancelled.’ Jemima’s voice was small and unsteady and the look she sent Beth held a touch of regret.
‘I see. And Mr Carrington-Smythe isn't prepared to drop his objection? Or to give Miss Carter time to change the appearance of Number 4?’
Jemima screwed up her face in apology. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she said. ‘I did ask him but he said that…well, he said no.’
Deciding she didn’t care how it looked, Beth reached out and slipped her suddenly cold hand into Jake’s warm grip.
‘And the reason for the Club’s decision is solely that Beth has painted her hut pink?’ asked Darren’s rich voice from the back of the crowd.
Jemima looked at him from the corner of her eye. ‘Er, yes. Dominic told me to say that the Club feels this is unacceptable.’
‘Solely on the grounds of its colour?’
‘Er, that’s right.’
‘But our hut is also painted pink.’
Stepping forward, he swung around, pointing to the next-door hut.
‘So does that mean the Beach Hut Club is going to rescind my licence as well?’
Silence frizzled in the air. His voice was smooth and challenging and his eyes met Jemima’s with such purpose that Beth shuddered. No wonder he had done so well for himself in business she thought, she wouldn’t want to go head-to-head with him, across a board room table.
‘Well, Jemima?’ pushed Darren in a silky tone. ‘Are you going to demand I lose my hut as well?’
Jemima looked horrified. ‘Oh no, I don't think Dominic wants you to lose your licence, not at all!’
‘But our hut is pink. If you are going to remove Beth's licence for having an inappropriate colour, you’ll have to remove mine as well.’
The wide staring eyes reminded Beth of a rabbit caught in some particularly bright headlights and Jemima flapped both her mouth and her hands to no avail.
‘I…er…Dominic didn’t say…he thought it was just Number 4…’ She turned to Sarah with a look of exasperation. ‘Why would you do this? Why paint your cabana pink?’
‘To help a friend,’ said Sarah softly, sending a smile winging towards Beth. ‘Because that's the sort of thing we do in Welby.’
Jemima’s mouth wobbled. ‘But she…she…I thought I was your friend?’
‘You are,’ said Sarah with a kind smile. ‘And if you want me to tell Dom what to do with his opinion about pink, as a friend, I'll be more than happy to oblige!’
Chewing on her lip, Jemima stared at the pink huts. ‘Well, as a friend, couldn’t you just paint yours again? Something not pink?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Oh, we won’t be changing the colour,’ assured Darren. ‘I am ready to admit my beautiful wife was right all along, it looks so much better now. So, I repeat my question, are you going to try and take my licence away from me?’
Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Jemima’s upper lip.
‘Well,’ she began, looking round wildly for inspiration. ‘I mean… if you want to keep it pink…I don’t …. Dominic will….’
‘So will the Beach Hut Club be dropping the claim?’ asked Henry, cutting through her mumblings.
‘It’s the Cabana Club,’ insisted Jemima. She looked around the beach as though searching for inspiration but found nothing. ‘But I suppose, well…yes. But Dominic won't be happy. He’ll probably…’
Excellent.’ The smile was back on Henry’s face and once more Beth allowed herself to feel hopeful. ‘I’m glad that’s settled because personally, I think the pink looks grand.’ He sent Beth a smile. ‘I do believe it’s the colour Lizzie always had it painted,’ he said softly. ‘Am I right?’
Beth nodded, not trusting her voice.
‘Then I don’t think there’s anything more to say. Thank you for your attendance, everyone. Miss Carter, I hope you enjoy your beach hut for many years to come,’ and with a chorus of ‘goodbye’s, ‘thank you’s and ‘see you later’s, the men made their way back down the beach, stopping briefly to look fondly out across the bay before returning to their office.
Silence hung over the group of friends and Beth realised she was still gripping Jake’s hand tightly. Releasing him, she took a step back. A little more distance between them was probably a good thing.
‘Am I… is everything okay now?’ she asked tentatively, wondering if she had missed something important. ‘I mean… do I…?’
‘You get to keep the hut,’ whooped Sarah who dashed across the sand to hug Beth. ‘Number 4 is yours.’
And the silence was broken as they all crowded around to hug Beth and each other and then Beth again, congratulating her and each other and Beth again in their excitement.
‘Oh well done, my daring girl,’ whispered Sam against her ear. ‘Well done. Lizzie would be proud, so proud.’
And then the tears which had been threatening for so many days, released like a dam and began pouring down Beth’s face.
‘But it wasn’t me,’ she sniffed, a hiccuppy sob breaking free, ‘it was all of you. You all helped and you told me not to give up and you... you… you painted your hut pink!’
A wave of happy laughter flowed through them all and Sarah took her husband’s hand, her eyes blazing with pride.
‘Which was a ridiculous thing to do,’ protested Jemima from her position on the outer reaches of the group. ‘Quite ridiculous.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Sarah happily, planting a kiss on Darren’s lips. ‘And it was worth it to make sure Beth kept her hut.’
‘But it's pink,’ wailed Jemima. ‘Dominic really doesn’t like pink! He told me to have the licence for Number 4 removed and I haven’t and now there are two pink huts. He’s going to be so cross with you all.’
‘Dom doesn't like anything,’ said Darren with feeling. ‘Let’s face it Jem, he’s a miserable man with a miserable attitude. And if he didn't have Beth's hut to moan about, he would soon find something else.’
Jemima gasped.
‘Paint yours pink, Jem,’ giggled Sarah. ‘You’ll find it’s quite liberating.’
‘No!’ squeaked Jemima. ‘Not pink.’ She shuddered, then stood still, hands on hips as she took a long hard look at the happy little huts and squinting her eyes as though trying to visualise something. ‘But maybe a pale blue,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Something soft and – well, beach-like.’
Darren threw back his head and laughed. ‘That's more like it! New rule at the Beach Hut Club- all huts need to be painted a colour Lizzie Brandon would have approved of.’
‘It’s the Cabana Club and…’
‘It's the Beach Hut Club!’ chorused everybody else and burst into gales of relieved laughter, as Beth sent a grateful smile in Darren's direction and received a small wink in response.
‘Oh whatever,’ sniffed Jemima. ‘And heaven only knows what Dominic is going to say,’ and picking up her shoes, she walked as quickly as she could off the beach.
‘Well,’ breathed Sarah with a huge satisfied smile on her face. ‘We get to keep Beth and call it the Beach Hut Club. I would call that a good day’s work,’ and she grabbed Darren’s arm to give him a resounding kiss.