‘It was inspired by my grandmother, who was called Pearl and was the happiest woman I knew,’ explained Mark. ‘And would you believe, Diane’s gran was also called Pearl. She was a cheerful woman too apparently, so it was a no-brainer.’ He smiled. ‘We did think about calling it simplyPearl, butThe Oystersounded more special somehow.’
‘I take it your mother was not so happy?’ Alice could not help asking, wondering why the boat was named after his grandmother rather than his mother. Mark was silent for a few seconds as he stared out across the water.
‘No,’ he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the water. Finally, looking at Alice, he continued. ‘At least not when she was around me.’
For the first time Alice saw a pain behind his eyes. She would talk to him about it. But not right now.
Taking a seat on the boat, Alice listened with interest as Mark proudly told her of his previous sail, including a boat race last year. He started the engine up then, and they were soon gliding across the water.
‘Would you like to take the wheel?’ asked Mark a while later, when they were a little further out, the wind whipping up a little around them.
‘I’d love to.’ Alice took the wheel of the boat, glancing at the distant Welsh hills in one direction, the cranes from the docks and the wind farms to the right, overlooking the beach. It was a little cool and she was glad she had brought a cardigan that she slipped on after a while, before fastening her scarf tightly around her neck. It was exhilarating being out on the water.
Alice recalled a day when the tutor of the drama group she attended as a teenager took them across the Mersey for a day out to New Brighton Pavilion to see a show. Watching the glamorous dancers in the chorus line had fired in Alice her desire to be a professional dancer more than ever.
A boy serving them ice cream at a kiosk took a fancy to Alice, and her friend reminded her that her dad would kill her if she got off with someone from the funfair. It was true, of course, but Alice felt flattered all the same. Her friends teased her all the way home about how her ice cream had been bigger than everyone else’s.
The following year when the dance troupe she was in had gained quite a reputation, they performed in St Tropez at a private party. After the show, a rich businessman had wowed thegirls with a sail on his yacht in the blazing sunshine. Halcyon days indeed.
After an hour had slipped by, Mark suggested mooring up and visiting his favourite beach restaurant. The squawking of gulls above greeted them as they stepped out of the boat and headed to the café that had stainless steel tables and chairs outside.
‘We will eat inside, if that’s okay,’ suggested Mark. ‘Unless you fancy sharing your food with the seagulls.’
Right on cue, a gull swooped down and grabbed a chip from a polystyrene tray in a bin. ‘I booked us a nice table, as it can get really busy at the weekend.’
She followed him inside the restaurant that was larger than it appeared from the outside and had cream painted walls and some cheerful vintage bunting stretched across a wall behind the counter.
‘What can I get you?’ asked a pretty young woman in a black apron, the word ‘Lucy’s’ embroidered across it in white stitching.
‘A pot of tea, please. And it has to be fish and chips I think,’ said Alice.
‘On a Sunday?’ Mark frowned.
‘I don’t see why not. Fish and chips seem perfect after a bracing sail.’ She smiled.
‘No roast lunch on a Sunday.’ Mark tutted then laughed, before ordering roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with all the trimmings.
‘This is the best you will get around here,’ he told her and the girl behind the counter smiled.
They were shown to their table then, a window table that overlooked the sand dunes with a strip of sparkling sea beyond.
A pot of tea for two arrived, and in no time at all, so had their food.
‘How did you know I would accept your invitation for lunch?’ asked Alice as she cut into the crispy batter, revealing white flakes of fish.
‘I would have dined here alone. I do sometimes.’ He shrugged. ‘But I much prefer company, especially yours,’ he told her and Alice smiled.
Talk turned to family and Alice told him all about George, and he spoke fondly of Diane.
‘You must miss her dreadfully. I know I do George. Are your parents still alive?’ asked Alice and she saw Mark’s jaw tighten.
‘My mother is.’ He took a sip of tea.
‘And in good health?’ She estimated she was maybe somewhere in her eighties.
‘I wouldn’t know.’ He forked the last of his lunch into his mouth, before picking up a dessert menu.
‘That’s a shame,’ ventured Alice.
