Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
PETE
P ete woke to the sound of seagulls arguing raucously on the Surf Club’s roof. Morning sunlight filtered through the high windows of the changing room, and he turned over to hide his face, wincing slightly at the feel of the concrete floor beneath his mound of bedding.
He grinned into the pillow as the events of the previous night played through his mind like a highlight reel—all of them centred around Scarlett. The look on her face when she’d first seen him in Murray’s suit. Her laugh as they’d danced to Brian’s questionable music choices. The way she’d felt in his arms when she’d launched at him for that first, surprising kiss. The way it had wiped everything—and everyone—else from his brain.
There was her. Just her.
‘Blimey,’ Pete murmured, grinning like a loon. It still didn’t quite seem real. More like a delicious dream he was bound to wake up from.
Then again… if this was a dream, he wouldn’t be bedded down in the Surf Club’s changing room, would he?!
And Scarlett wouldn’t be leaving today…
Nope—he wasn’t going down that rabbit hole yet. He didn’t want to waste his last few hours with her moping.
With a sigh, Pete forced himself up into a sitting position and let out a huge yawn, before wincing at several new knots in his back. He really should have taken the time to reinstate his bed in the back of the van when they’d got back last night… but it was so late, it hadn’t been worth it.
When they’d got back to Crumbleton Sands, Pete had dropped Libby off at his parent’s place and then walked Scarlett along the boardwalk to the shepherd’s hut. They’d spent several long minutes—or maybe it was hours—twined around each other on the porch as the waves crashed nearby.
It had taken every ounce of willpower he had to eventually tear himself away and watch her head inside alone. He had a feeling Scarlett had wanted him to follow her, but despite everything, he knew it was too soon.
Now? He was cursing his own restraint! Still… at least they’d get to hang out again at the fancy dress swim…
Pete glanced at his watch and swore softly. Speaking of which, he was going to be late if he didn’t get a move on.
Throwing back the covers, he clambered out of bed and quickly started to roll it up so that he could shove it back into the van before the others arrived and wanted to use the facilities.
As he headed out into the bright sunshine with the mound of bedding clutched in his arms, Pete thanked his lucky stars that as last night’s designated driver, he didn’t have a hangover to contend with. The fancy dress swim was always a lot of fun… but not so much if you’d had a skin-full the night before!
With some difficulty, he yanked open the van’s side door and bundled the bedding inside. Then he grabbed the package he’d stashed behind the back seat the previous day. This had been his second errand after picking up his suit.
Unzipping the bag, Pete grimaced at the contents. Perhaps he should have chosen something a bit more dignified? But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and these were the only matching costumes he’d been able to get his hands on at the last minute. At least they were appropriate for a sea-themed event.
The question was… would Scarlett even want hers?! Libby had said she might not have one, but still…
Pulling one of the costumes out, Pete held it up and pulled a face. The bright pink lobster outfit was just as ridiculous as he remembered, complete with padded claws and antennae on a headband. It had clearly seen better days – one claw was slightly misshapen, and there was a dubious stain on the underside of the tail – but it would do the job. At least the second costume was in a better shape.
‘I’m sure she’ll be thrilled,’ Pete muttered to himself, stuffing the outfit back into the bag.
A quick shower at the surf club’s facilities – not quite as nice as the one in the hut, but good enough – and Pete was ready to face the day. He dressed in his wetsuit, grabbed the lobster costumes, and headed towards the café where the fancy dress participants were already gathering.
The Limpet Café had been transformed into a makeshift changing area for the event, with people in various stages of undress milling about, helping each other into elaborate costumes. Brian Singer was directing traffic, clipboard in hand, his chest hair now mercifully hidden beneath a captain’s outfit complete with epaulettes and a jaunty hat.
‘Pete! About time!’ called Mick, making a show of checking his watch. ‘We’re starting in twenty minutes!’
‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ Pete replied good-naturedly, scanning the crowd for Scarlett. He couldn’t see her among the mermaids, Neptune-alikes, and assorted sea creatures preparing for the swim.
‘If you’re looking for the honorary Chilly Dipper who snogged you in front of your evil ex last night, I think she’s in the kitchen trying to figure out what to wear,’ said Mick, with a raised eyebrow.
‘Say it a bit louder,’ huffed Pete. ‘I don’t think they heard you outside.’
‘No point coming over all shy after last night’s little show!’ said Mick with an unrepentant grin. ‘Besides, it was the cutest thing I’ve seen in years.’
‘Hold that thought,’ chuckled Pete, holding up the lobster costumes.
Mick’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Matching outfits? Getting serious, are we?’
‘It’s a fancy dress swim, not a proposal,’ said Pete, feeling his ears grow warm. ‘Where’s Libby?’
‘Over there with the rest of the youngsters.’ Mick nodded towards a group of teenagers by the window, all in various states of face painting. Libby was having blue scales drawn onto her cheeks by one of her friends, her costume—some kind of mermaid ensemble—was already in place.
Pete made his way through the crowd towards the kitchen, dodging a man struggling with an enormous jellyfish headpiece that was threatening to garrotte anyone who came too close.
The kitchen door was slightly ajar, and he could hear frustrated muttering from inside.
‘Knock knock,’ he called, pushing the door open slightly. ‘Decent?’
‘Barely,’ came Scarlett’s voice. ‘Lou’s brought me something to wear, but I think it might actually be a child’s costume. I can get one leg in, but the other is proving problematic.’
Pete poked his head around the door to find Scarlett hopping on one foot, attempting to wedge her other leg into what looked like a sparkly green mermaid’s tail. The resulting pose was more flamingo than fish, and her expression of intense concentration was so endearing that Pete couldn’t suppress a chuckle.
Scarlett’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing at his amusement. ‘If you’ve come to laugh at me, you can clear off.’
‘I’ve come to rescue you,’ Pete corrected, holding up the bag. ‘I borrowed something that might actually fit.’
Relief flooded Scarlett’s face. ‘Oh, thank god. This thing is an instrument of torture.’ She abandoned her efforts with the mermaid tail, which slithered to the floor in a puddle of sequins. ‘What have you got?’
Pete extracted the slightly less battered of the two lobster costumes and presented it with a flourish. ‘Your fancy dress awaits, madam.’
Scarlett stared at the costume, her expression shifting from hope to disbelief. ‘You’re joking.’
‘Afraid not,’ Pete said, trying not to laugh at her evident horror. ‘It was this or a seagull outfit with suspicious stains down the front.’
‘And you chose the lobster?’ said Scarlett.
‘I chose the lobster,’ Pete confirmed. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t be the only one looking ridiculous.’
He pulled his own costume from the bag, holding it up beside hers like a proud parent displaying twins.
Scarlett’s mouth twitched, the beginnings of a smile breaking through her dismay. ‘You’re wearing one too?’
‘Of course I am,’ said Pete. ‘Can’t let you suffer alone, can I?’
‘That’s…’ Scarlett paused, searching for the right word, ‘actually quite sweet, in a bizarre way.’
‘I have my moments,’ Pete grinned. ‘Need a hand getting into it?’
‘I think I can manage,’ said Scarlett dryly. ‘Though I’ve no idea what to do with the claws.’
‘They go over your hands, obviously,’ Pete demonstrated with his own costume. ‘I reckon the really tricky bit is going to be the antennae headband. Bet it’ll slide off while we’re swimming.’
Scarlett looked increasingly dubious, but she took the costume from him with a resigned sigh.
‘Right, I’ll let you get changed,’ he said. ‘Meet you outside in ten?’
‘Make it fifteen,’ Scarlett amended, eyeing the costume with a mixture of resignation and determination. ‘This might take some figuring out.’
Pete retreated, closing the kitchen door behind him. He changed quickly in one of the toilet cubicles, emerging to find Libby waiting for him, her face now adorned with an impressive array of blue and green scales that extended down her neck and arms.
‘You look…nice,’ she smirked, tapping one of his antennae so it wobbled. ‘Very you.’
‘Says the bargain basement mermaid,’ Pete retorted good-naturedly. ‘Where’d you get the scales?’
‘Kendra did them,’ Libby preened. ‘She’s going to art college next year, you know.’
‘She’s got talent,’ said Pete, ‘though I’m not sure turning my little sister into half a fish was the best use of it.’
Libby stuck out her tongue, then glanced around. ‘Where’s Scarlett? Don’t tell me she’s chickened out of the fancy dress bit?’
‘She’s changing,’ said Pete.
As if on cue, the kitchen door opened, and Scarlett emerged – or at least, Pete assumed it was Scarlett beneath the bright pink lobster outfit. The costume was slightly too large for her, giving her a distinctly bulbous appearance, and the antennae on her headband were already listing to one side.
‘Don’t laugh,’ she muttered as she approached them.
Libby, predictably, did exactly that.
‘You two!’ she wheezed, doubling over. ‘What a lovely pair of prawns!’
‘We’re lobsters, actually,’ said Pete, straightening Scarlett’s antennae with a gentle touch. ‘Lobsters that have been cooked, because we’re pink – but lobsters nonetheless.’
‘I stand corrected,’ said Libby, still giggling. ‘Though I think the technical term is “romantic idiots”.’
Before Pete could respond, Mick’s whistle cut through the chatter, signalling that it was time to head down to the beach.
The crowd began to move en masse towards the door, a peculiar parade of sea creatures and mythological beings. One guy, who was dressed as a beach ball with legs, had quite a bit of trouble squeezing through the doorway.
‘Time to face the crowds,’ said Pete, offering Scarlett one padded claw. ‘Ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ she said, slipping her own claw into his with a little smile.
Outside, the day was bright and clear, with a breeze off the sea that carried the tang of salt and seaweed. There were even more people in evidence than the previous day, and there was a decidedly festive atmosphere on the beach.
As Pete led Scarlett onto the golden sand, Lou spotted them immediately, her eyes widening at the sight of their matching costumes.
‘Well, well, well,’ she said, looking between them with undisguised glee. ‘What have we here?’
‘Don’t start,’ Scarlett warned, but there was no heat in her voice.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Lou, though her expression suggested otherwise. ‘Nice to see you two getting along so… swimmingly.’
Pete groaned at the pun. ‘That was terrible, even by Chilly Dipper standards.’
‘Aw, look,’ Doris cooed, coming up to stand next to Lou. ‘Our little Scarlett’s coming out of her shell!’
Pete sniggered.
‘You know what they say,’ said Kathleen, joining the other two. ‘Couples who crustacean together, stay together.”
‘There’s no way that’s a thing people say!’ hooted Scarlett.
‘You know,’ said Pete, shaking his head. ‘Maybe we should go back inside and change. You can have another go at squeezing into the tail, and I’ll take the inflatable flamingo.’
‘Don’t be so shellfish,’ said Scarlett, earning herself an appreciative round of applause from the others.
Pete grinned and rolled his eyes. ‘You really are one of them, aren’t you?!’
‘One of us! One of us!’ chanted Lou, throwing an arm around Scarlett’s lobster shell as the others joined in.
‘Definitely a cult,’ he laughed.
Lou shrugged, unrepentant. ‘By the way, Scarlett – I checked with Brian, and he says he’s happy to drop you at the train station on our way back. There’s room in the minibus, but we’ll be leaving straight after the swim…’
‘Oh!’ said Scarlett, with a little frown. ‘Right. Well, that’s really kind of him…’
Pete shivered as a cloud passed in front of the sun, and he suddenly wished he wasn’t standing on the beach in a stupid lobster costume.