Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
PETE
P ete squirmed uncomfortably on his makeshift bed. He’d forgotten just how unforgiving the folded-down seats could be, even with the addition of the blankets he’d half-inched from the hut. Something kept jabbing him in the ribs every time he shifted position.
‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered, turning over for what felt like the hundredth time. His elbow knocked against the side panel with a dull thud, sending a vibration through the entire vehicle.
The night had grown surprisingly chilly, and a cold draft was seeping in through one of the van’s many rust spots. It might be summer, but his thin blanket wasn’t nearly enough to keep him warm.
Pete briefly considered turning the engine on to run the heater, but somehow, that felt like cheating. Besides, it would only drain his battery – then he really would be stuck!
He pulled the blanket up to his chin and shuffled into what he hoped might be a more comfortable position, disturbing several creased surf magazines in the process. They slithered to the floor with a soft rustle, joining the growing pile of belongings that had nowhere proper to live in the cluttered van.
The smell was starting to get to him, too. Pete sniffed cautiously. There was the usual blend of salt water, surfboard wax, and half-dry wetsuit… but there was something else, too. Something he couldn’t quite place. Old takeaway, perhaps? Or possibly a half-eaten sandwich?
He wrinkled his nose. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t the clean, sea-fresh scent of his shepherd’s hut.
‘Should have spent less time sulking and more time cleaning,’ he grumbled to himself, the words hanging in the stale air.
Or maybe he should have just refused to leave at all!
Pete knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t quite shake his petty grudge against the mystery swimmer from Seabury—who was probably snuggled up in his comfy bed right now.
Suddenly, an image popped into his head—a floral swimming cap laid out on his bedside table, next to a pair of dentures floating in a glass of water. Pete snorted. As long as he didn’t end up having to fish crinkly grey hairs out of the drain for weeks to come.
‘Seriously?’ he huffed. ‘Grow up!’
He flopped onto his back and stared up at the dented ceiling, suddenly feeling bad about acting like a big baby. He had so much to be grateful for. Maybe he could make up for his mean thoughts in the morning by buying their guest a coffee in the café… or even a bacon sarnie. They might not know what he was apologising for, but he definitely would!
This slightly more charitable thought had a good effect on Pete, and at long last, he felt the tension in his muscles start to ease. This really wasn’t that bad, was it? After all, how many people could fall out of bed in the morning and be on the beach in a matter of seconds?
As Pete’s eyelids started to grow heavy, the van’s metal roof seemed to magnify every sound, turning them into a seaside lullaby full of gentle waves, the soft whisper of sand shifting on the dunes, and the occasional call of a seabird.
Pete yawned and then snuggled down further under his blanket. He’d just drifted off when a gentle tapping made him jump. He struggled into a sitting position and cocked his head.
Had he just imagined it?
Then he heard it again – a timid knock against the van’s sliding door.
‘Hello?’ came a tentative voice. ‘Is anyone in there?’
Pete frowned, resting on one elbow. Who on earth would be knocking on his van at this time of night?
‘Hello?’ the voice came again. Female. Soft. Uncertain. ‘I don’t seem to have any hot water. The note said you could help.’
The swimmer , Pete realised with a jolt. He’d been thinking about her so much he’d managed to manifest her right outside the van!
Pete groaned inwardly. Of course… he was on call. His mum had name-checked him in that welcome note of hers. It was just his luck the comfy-bed-thief would have a problem on her very first night!
‘Just a minute,’ he called back, his voice rough with tiredness. ‘I’ll be right out.’
Thankfully, he’d gone to bed fully clothed – more to compensate for his lack of a decent duvet than out of any sense of decorum. The board shorts and faded t-shirt he’d been lounging in were decidedly scruffy, but they’d have to do.
Pete pushed aside the fallen magazines and a damp towel as he fumbled around for his flip-flops. Slipping them on, he raked a hand through his hair. It wouldn’t do much to improve his appearance, but it felt like he should make some kind of effort before he greeted his parents’ guest!
He slid the van door open with a metallic screech and winced at the noise. The cool night air rushed in, carrying with it the tangy scent of the sea.
Pete blinked in surprise at the sight that met his eyes. He was face to almost face with… well… quite possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes on.
She was small – a good head shorter than him – with a mass of dark curls framing a heart-shaped face. In the silvery moonlight, her skin seemed to glow, pale and luminous against the darkness. Her eyes were wide and apologetic as she stared up at him.
She was wrapped in what looked like a man’s cardigan, far too big for her slender frame, the sleeves rolled up several times to free her hands. Her bare legs disappeared into a pair of fluffy pink slipper-socks that were covered in a fine coat of sand.
Pete’s brain promptly short-circuited. He’d been prepared for a slightly grumpy elderly lady, not… whoever this was.
He stared, suddenly aware that he probably looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. His hair was a salt-crusted mess, and his t-shirt had a questionable stain near the hem.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Sorry to disturb you so late. Are you Pete?’
Pete nodded, still struggling to find his voice. His mouth felt dry, his tongue strangely unwilling to cooperate. ‘That’s me,’ he managed at last, his words coming out rougher than he’d intended. He cleared his throat. ‘Problem?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded, twisting her hands in the too-long sleeves of her cardigan. ‘I was trying to have a shower, but the water’s ice-cold. The note said you’d be able to help? I know it’s really late, but Brian dropped me off after all the others, and… well… sorry…’
She trailed off, fidgeting from foot to foot, looking like she wished the sands would part so that the dunes could swallow her whole and put her out of her misery.
‘It’s no problem,’ said Pete, finally getting his brain back in gear and taking pity on her. Something about her made him think of a flighty woodland animal, with her wide eyes and the fact that she looked like she’d bolt at any given moment. ‘Hot water? I can fix that.’
He stepped out of the van, closing the door behind him with another screech followed by a dull thud.
‘I’m Scarlett, by the way,’ said the woman.
‘Pete,’ he replied. ‘But you already know that. Sorry.’
He shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling awkward and too large next to her petite frame as they made their way onto the moonlit boardwalk.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ she said with a shy smile. ‘You’re basically my knight in shining armour right now.’
‘Don’t know about that,’ muttered Pete, wishing he’d taken the time to change his tee-shirt.
‘Well… it’s nice to meet you, anyway,’ said Scarlett. ‘I hope I’m not putting you out.’
‘Not at all,’ Pete lied, feeling even more guilty for his prolonged sulk.
‘And… did you light the fire for me?’ she said.
‘Uh huh.’
‘Well, it was a really nice touch,’ she said. ‘Thank you. I was so cold and stiff after the minibus, and the hut’s so cosy and… well…’
Scarlet trailed off as they reached the hut, and Pete felt a strange pang of something as he watched her run lightly up the steps onto the porch. It wasn’t jealousy… more like a sense of rightness… and pride that he’d made this random stranger’s life a little bit more comfortable.
He frowned. What on earth was with him today?!
‘Come on in!’ said Scarlett, pushing the door open.
Pete nodded and followed her inside. It was odd to be invited into his own home… and even odder seeing someone else in his space, even if that someone was temporarily rendering him speechless.
The fire he’d set earlier crackled merrily inside the woodburner, filling the small space with warmth and the comforting scent of burning driftwood. The place looked different somehow, with Scarlett’s things scattered around – a book on the tiny fold-down table, a jacket draped over the back of the chair.
‘This place is gorgeous,’ said Scarlett, gesturing around the hut. ‘I’m so lucky – it was such a brilliant surprise. I didn’t really know what to expect, but this is…’ she trailed off, staring around with a look of wonder on her face. ‘It must be amazing to live here.’
‘It is,’ said Pete before he remembered he wasn’t meant to admit that this was his home because his mum thought it might make their guest feel awkward.
Scarlett raised her eyebrows, and Pete cleared his throat, wondering how best to backtrack.
‘I mean, yes, it’s… nice.’ The words felt woefully inadequate. It was only now that there was someone else staying here that he realised what the hut meant to him – a haven, a sanctuary, a place that had started to feel like his first real home in years.
He moved to the tiny shower room, avoiding her curious gaze. ‘Let’s see about this water, shall we?’
Two minutes later, he had steam billowing out of the tiny cubicle and fogging the small mirror above the sink.
‘There you go,’ he said, stepping back and wiping his damp hands on his shorts. ‘All sorted.’
Scarlett peered past him, eyes wide with admiration. ‘That’s amazing! What did you do?’
Pete fought a ridiculous urge to preen under her impressed gaze. The fix had been simple—routine for him—but her reaction made him feel like he’d performed some kind of wizardry.
‘Just needed to build up a bit of pressure in the system,’ he said, leaning against the doorframe. ‘It has to come a fair distance, so it takes time to heat up properly.’ He decided not to add that it was yet another job his dad had bodged “for now”. ‘Once it gets going, it’s actually quite good.’
‘Well, thank you,’ she said with a smile.
Pete was struck again by how lovely she was, even in the harsh light of the bathroom.
‘You’re a lifesaver. I was worried I’d have to go to bed all sticky and gross.’
The image her words conjured made Pete’s brain short-circuit again, and he quickly looked away. ‘No problem,’ he said, suddenly very aware of how small the bathroom was and how close they were standing. ‘I’ll, erm, leave you to it then?’
Scarlett nodded, and Pete watched as a hint of pink stained her cheeks. She tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and then plucked at the hem of her cardigan.
Pete wondered what—if anything—she was wearing underneath it. A wave of panic washed over him as if he’d just said the words out loud. He needed to get out of there before he said something completely inappropriate!
‘If you need anything else, just?—’
‘I think I’m all set now,’ she said, with a grin that had him backing away from the bathroom towards the hut’s front door.
Scarlett followed. Her light floral scent mingled with the wood smoke, and for a brief moment, Pete felt drunk on it.
‘See you tomorrow, then?’ she said as Pete yanked the door open and hot-footed it back onto the porch.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ he muttered. ‘Night then.’
‘Goodnight, Pete,’ she said, shooting him a bemused look before closing the door.
Pete heard the latch drop gently into place and stood there for a moment, feeling oddly bereft.
‘Nicely done, idiot!’ he muttered to himself. He’d practically run away from the woman. She probably thought he was a complete plonker.
The golden light from the hut’s little windows dimmed one by one as Scarlett dropped the calico blinds. Two seconds later, the porch and steps were plunged into shadowy darkness.
Pete shook himself. What was wrong with him? She was just some random swimmer from Seabury. She’d be gone in a few days, and his life would return to normal. Such as it was. So why was his heart beating so hard he could feel it all the way from his scalp to his toes.
‘Get a grip,’ he muttered, stepping off the porch onto the boardwalk.
The weathered wood creaked under his weight. The night seemed darker and colder after the warmth and light of the hut. Time to head back to the van
He trudged along, following the line of fairy lights with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, trying not to think about the cosy fire and comfortable bed he’d just left behind… or the woman currently enjoying them.