Chapter Three
‘Wow. That’s amazing!’
‘How do you do that with only a rake?’
‘Can we take pictures?’
Voices rang out behind Tammy as people gathered around her sun design, crowding her. Keeping a smile fixed firmly in place, she offered a few brief answers while itching to get away.
‘Got a hat, love?’ The question came from a large man in a surf-branded T-shirt who, she guessed, had never caught a wave in his life. ‘Or something we can put money in?’
The question made Tammy’s spirits sink a little. Collecting coins on the beach wasn’t how she made her living, and besides, this piece of art was special. She certainly hadn’t done it for the money.
‘I don’t have a hat, but you could make a donation to the local charity if you like,’ she said pleasantly. ‘I can give you a business card with their website?’
The man’s brow puckered. ‘Between us, love, it’s the ideal chance to offload some change that’s wearing a hole in my pocket.’
‘Well, in that case, I’m happy to take your cash and hand it over to the charity shop later.’
‘Great!’ He delved into his cargo shorts pockets, scooping out coppers and silver.
Tammy retrieved her small waterproof bag that served equally well for car keys, her mobile – and coins.
‘I’ve got a tip for you, too.’ A woman in a striped top and white jeans thrust herself into the circle around Tammy. ‘These coppers are weighing down my purse.’
The woman and a couple of other onlookers added coins to Tammy’s bag.
It amused and alarmed her in equal measure that some were so keen to hand over the ‘burden’ of their small change.
Used to doing everything with a card, the coins had lost their value, yet Tammy knew how precious they would be to so many people in the village.
‘I promise I’ll take it to the charity shop later,’ she repeated, keen to reiterate that she wasn’t going to keep it for herself. A quick glance at the sea wall and she noticed the stranger had now ditched the tie.
‘You’re a saint, though I’d be tempted to hang on to the cash after all that hard work,’ the woman said. ‘You have to earn a living.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I manage,’ Tammy said, itching to get away.
People circled her creation. Tammy wanted them to go, but her work was public now and wasn’t that what she’d intended? She wanted them to think about the man it was meant for, even if they’d never met her father. Otherwise, she’d have chosen a secret beach, not the main one in Porthmellow.
A girl of about six was kicking at the far side of the design, the sand spraying into the air.
‘Robyn! Don’t do that!’ The shout came from a woman with a grey bob. ‘The lady will be upset.’
‘It’s OK,’ Tammy muttered, though her stomach clenched. ‘The sea will take it soon anyway.’
The woman, who seemed to be the girl’s grandmother, pursed her lips in disapproval. ‘That’s as may be, but it’s not right, damaging a work of art. She has to learn to respect other people’s property.’ She marched after her granddaughter, taking her hand and ushering her away.
Tammy gave an inner sigh. The sunrise in the sand wasn’t her property now. The sea would take it back soon enough. But that was the natural process which should happen, rather than it suffering an untimely destruction by a child’s tantrum.
A young guy with a goatee dropped some euros in the duffle. ‘Thank you for your beautiful art,’ he said in a French accent.
‘You’re welcome,’ Tammy replied and, before anyone else could approach, she trotted up the steps that led away from the beach so she could grab a few photos and watch nature take its course.
She hadn’t been there when her father had been taken; his loss was out of her control.
At least when she created her annual tribute, she could be with him in spirit.
Besides, if she didn’t get a move on, Mr Suited and Booted would be gone and she’d never have the chance to find out who he was.