Chapter 12 #2
‘On the plus side,’ said Will summoning a hint of enthusiasm, ‘we pretty much have a blank canvas to work with, as you can see.’
‘Oh, and with a bit of imagination, I can feel the Hamptons coming on.’ Nikki was suddenly perking up, gazing around her at the living space.
‘White-painted wooden walls, maybe even the ceiling in white, too. It’s the dull dark brown that’s doing nothing for it.
The sofa’s navy so that’ll work, yes, with some stripy cushions on.
All blues and creams, and soft beige, the colour of old rope.
And a driftwood-framed mirror, just over there.
’ She pointed to a bare brown wall space.
‘Yeah, coastal chic, here we come.’ She sounded quite pleased with her imaginings.
Cath could kind of picture it coming together with those seaside shades, too.
‘Ooh no, it needs a splash of colour,’ Andreas began.
‘Bright floral paintings … Tiki style. Grass skirts and cocktails. Oh yes, Club Tropicana even. And a bar area, yes. Pina coladas … with those cute mini umbrellas. We’re on the beach, baby.
’ Andreas was waving his arms as though casting a spell over the place, imagining a Tiki palace, whilst grinning.
‘That’s so cheesy, Andreas,’ said Lily with a smile. ‘But you know, it sounds kind of fun, too. Kitschy. If you do it stylishly, it might work.’
‘Honey, I do everything stylishly,’ he trilled.
Lily continued, ‘So, like keep the white walls, but have tropical greens and touches of floral hot pink and orange in the cushions and soft furnishings. And yes, I’m totally in on the cocktails and bar, one hundred per cent.’
‘Oh, and yes, a blow-up pink flamingo,’ added Andreas, so warmed to his theme that he was smoking hot, whilst Dan spluttered into his bottle of beer.
‘Good Lord, I’m not letting you lot get your hands on this place,’ Will leapt in.
‘Well, not until I’ve settled on a colour scheme, that is.
’ Yet he couldn’t help but smile as he glanced across to Cath, who just held up her hands.
He did actually think a little DIY help from his friends might in fact come in very handy, but he’d need to keep a bloody tight rein on them, and the colour scheme.
‘Well, I’m more with Nikki on this one,’ said Cath. ‘Some cool coastal shades. It’s a place to relax, after all, not a party shack.’
‘Aw, shame. Spoilsports,’ countered Andreas, pouting his lower lip.
‘It could be both,’ Lily mooted, raising her arched eyebrows hopefully.
‘Somewhere to chill, of course, but also have something of a cocktail bar feel. There are some very on-trend places in town.’ By that, she meant Newcastle-upon-Tyne.
‘I could check out some colour schemes for you. When I finally have time on my hands again.’
‘Ooh, yes, it could have a bar corner, at least.’ Andreas was perking up again. ‘With a hint of tropical, somewhere.’
‘Mai Tais and a bowl of peanuts,’ added Dan, with a smirk.
‘Scampi Fries,’ added Nikki, thinking of her favourite snacks.
‘Okay. Well, we’ll see.’ Will cut them short, whilst Cath stood there grinning. She loved the daft banter of this lot. ‘Enough about the decor. That can wait,’ Will continued. ‘Let’s get back outside and enjoy a cold beer on the patio, and make the most of this wonderful May sunshine.’
‘And after that,’ Cath suggested, ‘we could take a stroll down on the beach before getting supper underway, if that sounds all right with the chefs?’
‘It sounds perfect,’ said Dan. ‘Supper’s going to be exciting, too. And for a change, it’s not Greek style, in case you’re wondering.’
‘He’s such a man of mystery,’ added Andreas, ironically.
It was time to hit the deck, literally, with bottles of bucket-chilled beer for all.
*
A relaxed, sunny Sunday afternoon stroll followed.
Their group of six chatted as they wandered, taking in the salty sea air and feeling the soft golden sand beneath their feet.
Lily had taken her flip-flops off, and Dan and Andreas had abandoned their trainers at the base of the dunes.
Each of them pausing here and there to look across the beautiful bay towards the jagged-finger-shaped ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle on the horizon.
Children with buckets and spades were creating their own mini castles in the sands.
Birds gathered along the shoreline; sanderlings scurrying, sandpipers skimming the waves before settling to wade, and black-and-white oystercatchers dipping their bold orange bills into the shallows.
Cath pointed out a wise-looking heron to the group, who was standing still on one leg, intently perusing the rockpools.
She’d spotted him in that very place before; it seemed to be his patch.
Back up at the bungalow, a half-hour later, they settled into their various picnic chairs on the front deck, with Lily perched on a driftwood log, that someone must have hauled up from the sands at some point in the past. Will found he was enjoying today.
His health worries were, of course, still very much on his mind, but hosting for the first time at his beach bungalow, offering glasses of chilled white wine for those who fancied it, or a further bottle of beer, and having the company of the group, was serving as a nice distraction.
‘So, what’s the story, Will? How did you come by this cool place?’ asked Lily. ‘I know you inherited it, but tell us more.’
‘Yeah, so this used to be owned by my dad’s cousin. I’ve been wondering what the history of it is. All these seemingly random huts in the dunes. I’ve done some internet digging …’ Will started. He’d been curious to find out more, once he’d learned about his rather unusual inheritance.
‘Yes, these quirky huts in the dunes,’ added Dan with interest, ‘how on earth did they get built here in the first place? No vehicular access. No real planning, by the looks of it.’
There were indeed a hotchpotch of wooden bungalows nestled in the dunes behind the bay, perhaps thirty-five separate small buildings, stretching from the golf club at Embleton, in a scattered trail along to the headland point at Low Newton beach.
‘Well, I’ve done a little research,’ Will explained. ‘And they were originally built by the Dunstanburgh Castle Golf Course that’s positioned behind these dunes, back in the 1930s, as a place for the golfers to stay over.’
‘Ah, okay, that makes sense.’ Dan nodded.
‘Then they were compulsory purchased in the war, as the country prepared for invasion. There were trenches and all sorts of coastal defences set up here. You can still find odd bits and bobs of metal about. After that, when the war was over, they were offered back to the original owners for repurchase, or otherwise sold on. Most likely at a cheap price back then, but now, they can go for big money, as they hardly ever come up.’
‘That’s so cool,’ said Lily.
‘I own the bungalow, but nowadays, the land is leasehold with the National Trust,’ added Will.
‘Ah, I see. So, you don’t own the land just the building,’ clarified Nikki.
‘That’s right. It was Dad’s cousin, Bill, who owned it before.
He and his wife. They didn’t have any kids of their own.
We came down here once or twice, I seem to remember, years back,’ Will recollected.
‘I can picture playing out on the front deck here, finding grasshoppers in the dunes and collecting shells down on the sands with Mum. There were a few other kids from the huts and I knocked about with them, too. But after that summer, way back, we never came back, not to the hut. I’m not really sure why.
And I suppose, later on, it didn’t get used much.
It wasn’t mentioned at home over the years, and in time I forgot about it.
So did my uncle, by the looks of it, perhaps he and his wife couldn’t keep it up.
Didn’t visit much themselves … Uncle Bill was never in good health,’ Will explained further.
‘After Auntie Brenda passed, he went into a care home. My dad would visit him every now and then. He was in there for years before he died recently.’
‘I suppose it hasn’t been used here for years,’ observed Dan.
‘Yeah, left to rack and ruin. Such a shame,’ said Cath.
‘Bet it was a cool place to hang out as kids,’ said Andreas.
‘It’s a pretty cool place to hang out now. If you think of its potential, anyhow,’ added Lily.
It was indeed in the most stunning spot. The gathering gazed out across the awe-inspiring gold and blue hues of the bay, as they chatted.
‘Location, location, location,’ called out Andreas suddenly, waking them all up from their history lesson, as though he was presenting Escape to the Country.
‘This’d definitely be the “wildcard” house,’ said Nikki.
‘Hah, absolutely,’ agreed Cath, knowing the TV programme they were referring to. The wildcard being the quirkiest and out-there kind of option.
Sat on the deck, looking out over the rhythmic swell of the pewter-blue North Sea, with a brief break in the conversation, they could hear its hushing and rushing as it rolled in, breaking in a froth on the shore.
Families were playing on the sands beneath them; laughter, chatter, sandcastles, ball games, dipping toes and splashing in the chilly sea.
Dog walkers strolling. Terns and gulls circling above giving their iconic coastal cry; looking up, you could see the white of their underbellies as they turned and dipped.
All set against the backdrop of a Northumberland almost-summer sky of azure blue, with plump cumulus clouds in the exact same white and grey shades as those birds.
*
Aromas of fried garlic and onions began wafting from the hut.
Dan had started cooking the supper. Andreas was busy in the cramped kitchen area too, setting out a platter of olives and breadsticks, Manchego cheese and mini chunks of chorizo.
Outside on the deck, a small plastic table, that Will had brought from his garden shed at home, was set out; ideal for propping their glasses and the snacks to come. Sunshine was streaming in on them.