A large box sat on the worktop, wrapped in pink tissue paper.
‘What is it?’ I absolutely loathed surprises, the secret control freak that I was. ‘Open it and see. It won’t bite.’
I unwrapped the packaging and pulled the lid off what looked like a giant shoe box. Inside were a pair of baby pink Hunter wellies. In a size six. OMG. I couldn’t wait to tell the girls; they would wet themselves laughing. The funny thing was, I actually loved them.
‘How did you know my size?’ I asked in surprise.
‘I asked Clara,’ he said simply.
They fit like a glove and were surprisingly comfortable. He handed me a waterproof jacket which was about four sizes too big for me, and we set off out the back door crossing the field.
A whip in the wind hinted at autumns impending arrival. We headed towards the beach at first; the grass turned to rock as we got closer. John held me tightly as I negotiated the few steps down to the rocky sand. The scent of the beach was oddly familiar, taking me back to my childhood days as if it were yesterday.
‘This is unbelievable. Your own private beach. Does it ever get busy?’ I asked him.
‘Honestly? We rarely get the weather for it to be busy, and there are only a few points you can get down to this part of the beach. Mainly it’s just used by Trisha and Jane.’
‘Who is Jane?’
‘She’s going to be your other best friend,’ he informed me with a small smile. ‘She lives in the first house, next door to Trisha. She’s a Guard.’
‘A guard of what?’
A long rumbling laugh escaped his chest. ‘A policewoman, I think, is the term you would use to describe her. You know, blue flashing lights and handcuffs etc? She’s from Donegal. She’s the only Guard that goes into work with a full face of make-up. She wouldn’t look out of place in a nightclub, bar the uniform of course.’ He grinned.
‘I like her already.’ She sounded like someone I could relate to. I went to work with a full face of make-up on, despite the fact most of my face was covered with a mask. And if she was anything like Trisha, I knew we’d become great friends.
‘Her husband’s also a Guard. His home house is only a mile away from here.’
‘You mean his parents’ house?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Gosh, imagine living only a mile from where you grew up. I can’t imagine living on the Isle of Wight now, bumping into people I went to school with and seeing the same faces day in and day out.’
‘Lucy, it’s the same for me too. My parents live a stone’s throw away from here, just around the next corner. For a lot of us, it’s the complete opposite. We couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t live in my parents’ pockets; sometimes weeks pass by before I get a chance to visitthem properly, depending on how busy I am here, but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s a lot to be said for living in a small community,’ he insisted.
We’d have to agree to disagree on this one. ‘There’s also a lot to be said for living in a city; culture, variety, opportunity.’
‘True. But everyone has to lay their hat down somewhere,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I’d prefer to do it somewhere I know people. If I ran into a bit of bother, whatever it may be, you can guarantee that in this place I’d know someone that could help me. There’s a lot of comfort in it.’
I couldn’t imagine it. I hated the thought of every mistake I’d ever made being right on my doorstep, the entire town knowing everything about me.
We stared at the ocean once again, both lost in our own thoughts. I felt lightyears away from my past.
John had been right about one thing. Nobody would ever find me here. It was so remote.
He led me towards the animals, where I was surprised to see a man and a teenage boy with the cattle.
‘This is Hugh and his son, Sam. He works on the farm with me. This is Lucy,’ John said, while I shook both their hands.
‘Ah, the infamous Lucy,’ Hugh said knowingly. ‘We’ve all been waiting to meet you.’
‘So I keep hearing.’ I turned to John accusingly, but he blatantly pretended not to hear us, despite the fact he was less than a foot away.
‘Well, what do you think of the place?’ Hugh asked, chewing a bit of straw.
‘It’s absolutely beautiful.’
