‘He’s a friend.’
‘And he likes you, too,’ she says significantly.
‘As a friend,’ I insist, looking over my shoulder. ‘Careful as you reverse. It’s steep here.’
‘You could do worse,’ she comments with a smirk, ignoring my driving instructions as the tyres slide across the slippery grass.
‘Oh, yeah, and where does Elliot fit into all of this?’ I snap. She’s being an idiot.
She shrugs, still smirking as she indicates right.
‘Er, it’s aleft,’ I say sardonically. How can she not remember which way we came into this car park?
‘I know,’ she replies casually, flicking her indicator to the other side.
‘You’re a nightmare,’ I mutter, rolling my eyes.
She giggles as she pulls out onto the road.
Marty doesn’t feel like walking all the way to another beach, so we grab fish and chips and stick with the original plan. The sun is still warm as we sit on a bench overlooking the Camel Estuary, watching the tide roll back in. The air smells a bit pongy, but the view makes it worth it.
‘Oh, God, I forgot to say about your Beau account!’ Marty exclaims. ‘Those comments were incredible – you got so many!’
I’m tense as I top up our disposable cups with Prosecco. ‘Yeah.’
‘Bet you were beside yourself,’ she says, when I hand one over to her.
I posted Beau’s account earlier in the week, and Sara texted me a couple of days ago to congratulate me on the response from my readers. I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at what people have said. I’m still struggling to come to terms with everything.
‘What is it?’ Marty asks, seeing my face.
‘I didn’t want to write about him.’
‘Oh,’ she says. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t really thinking. It read so well that I almost forgot it actually happened.’
I don’t say anything.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says again. ‘I should have called you.’ Her self-reproach has abruptly kicked in. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t. I’m a bit caught up in my own life at the moment.’
‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s just... Beau’s death was unexpected, that’s all. Sara persuaded me to put it all out there, but I wanted to let him go quietly.’
I fill her in on our conversation.
‘She has a point,’ Marty says when I’ve finished.
‘I know,’ I reply. ‘It didn’t make it any easier, though.’
We both stare out across the water as we eat in silence.
‘I never knew Beau,’ she says after a while.
I let out a deep breath. ‘I’m not sure I ever knew him either.’ My voice is laced with sadness.
She reaches over and squeezes my hand.
‘How did that happen?’ I ask after a moment. A minute ago it seemed we were looking at sandbanks. Now the estuary is full of water.
‘The tide comes in quickly, doesn’t it?’ Marty goes along with my change of subject.
