‘Ah, that’s a shame,’ said Florrie. She’d enjoyed catching up with Hayley at the salsa dancinglesson.
‘Here they are,’ said Maggie, as a herring gull screeched from its perch on the railings that separated the bottom prom from the beach.
Florrie turned, following Maggie’s line of sight, to see Stella, Jenna and Louisa hurrying towards them from the direction of the beach huts.
‘Okay, so, I don’t know if you remember, but a few weeks ago, you mentioned something you’d quite like to do. In fact, you thought it’d be the perfect Sunday morning activity,’ Stella said, sounding more than a little mysterious.
Florrie racked her brains for what she could’ve said.
‘That “perfect Sunday activity” – in case you’ve forgotten – is…’ Lark added a pause for dramatic effect.
Florrie glanced around at the smiling faces looking back at her, the sound of the waves in the distance as the tide slowly crept out.
‘A beach clean!’ they all chorused.
Florrie clapped her hands to her face. ‘Oh my days, I did! How fab that you remembered.’ She laughed. They’d been at the Jolly, enjoying one of their Friday night get-togethers, when Florrie had told them how disappointed she and Ed had been by the amount of rubbish they’d spotted on their recent dog walks along the beach with Gerty. It was then that she’d mentioned that she’d quite like to organise a beach clean at some point.
‘It’s not your average hen party celebration, but we thought you’d like it,’ said Lark. ‘This one’s Jazz’s suggestion.’
‘It struck a chord when you mentioned it, cos the kids had brought it up the week before,’ said Jasmine. ‘I think I told you one of Chloe’s friends had cut her foot on some broken glass near the rock pools.’
‘I remember that! I hope her friend’s foot’s better. It’s a brilliant suggestion, Jazz. And thank you all for wanting to take part.’
‘There’s something nice at the end, as a bit of a reward for all our hard work,’ added Maggie.
‘I’ve just noticed, you’re not wearing your hen do bits and bobs from the other night. Don’t think you can wriggle out of wearingsuch classy stuff just cos you’re on a beach clean,’ Stella said with a joking wag of her finger.
Florrie clapped her hand to her forehead. ‘I’ve left them at home. They’re in a bag hanging on one of the coat pegs. We had an unexpected visitor, and I ended up leaving in a rush; the hen do stuff went right out of my mind. I’m so sorry, lasses.’ Florrie felt her cheeks flush with disappointment. She hoped she didn’t look ungrateful or for her friends to think she’d left them behind deliberately. She was relieved when Jasmine came to her rescue.
‘I can vouch for Florrie, she had an unexpected visitor of theworstkind.’
‘Not one of Ed’s parents or his ex?’ said Lark, looking alarmed.
‘It was Dawn. She turned up about ten, fifteen minutes before Jazz. It was awful, and I’m ashamed to say we had a bit of a barney on the doorstep. People were looking.’ She pulled a regretful face. ‘I don’t think my parents are going to be too chuffed with me when I tell them.’ Florrie cringed internally at the reminder of the heated exchange with Ed’s mother and the vitriol that had passed between them.
‘I’m sure your parents will understand, they know more than most what that woman’s like, especially after Thursday night,’ said Maggie. ‘By the way, how’s your dad? Is he still grumbling about Florence Nightmaringale?’
That resurrected Florrie’s smile. ‘He’s good, thanks. Still feeling a bit dizzy, but my mum said he’s got his appetite back. And, yes, he was having a good old complain about her, but it was obvious he’s still loving having a fuss made over him.’
‘Oh, that’s good to hear, lovey,’ said Jean, wearing a look of relief. It had shaken her badly when she’d seen Charlie unconscious on the pavement.
‘If it’s okay with everyone, I’d rather forget about Dawn for now and get on with us having a nice time, especially since you’ve all given up your Sunday mornings on my account.’
Florrie was relieved to find everyone was happy to agree with her request.
‘Not a problem, flower. Let’s get cracking. But first, you’re going to need one of these,’ Jasmine said, adding a hint of drama to her voice as she produced a folded litter picker from her backpack with an exaggerated flourish, opening it out and handing it to Florrie. ‘And you’ll need a pair of these.’ She reached into her backpack once more, and waved a pair of cleaning gloves in front of her. ‘And one of these.’ This time she proffered a black bin bag.
Florrie couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I see you’ve come fully equipped.’
‘Don’t let anyone say we don’t take our litter picking seriously,’ said Maggie.
‘Right, follow me, team!’ Jasmine held her litter picker aloft and strode purposefully over to the short run of steps that led down to the beach, the women following, litter pickers in hand.
‘I suggest we work our way along to the surf shop, then double back. I reckon that should keep us busy for a couple of hours,’ Jasmine called, her voice being buffeted by the breeze. And there’s a prize for the person who collects the most rubbish by the time we’re done.’
An exaggerated ‘ooh’ rang out. ‘What’s the prize, Jazz?’ asked Maggie.
‘I’ll think of something.’
