‘Climb onto the driver’s headrest, then onto the armrest. Careful, though.’
I try not to laugh as she manhandles her way down to my level, ducking her head under the low ceiling.
I edge backwards into my bed and move the covers so she can sit at the end and pull them back over herself.
‘This is cosy,’ she says with a touch of sarcasm, taking a sip of her coffee. ‘Yuck.’ She pulls a face.
‘I’ll make you another one.’ I smile. I am so happy she’s here.
We sit and chat for ages about what we’ve both been up to. She’s somewhat surprised to hear that Charlie and April will be joining us today, but she shrugs and accepts it.
‘I want to meet this “highly shaggable” person,’ she says, raising one eyebrow at me.
‘Urgh, stop it. He’s lovely,’ I say sincerely. ‘I feel bad for talking about him as if he were a piece of meat.’
She looks tickled. ‘Nevertheless, I can’t wait to check him out.’
Luckily, Marty is driving, so I don’t have to rely on her seriously useless map-reading skills when we set off to the beach later that morning. It’s a bit of a trek from the car park, so it’s not that surprising to find that the long, sandy stretch of beach at the bottom of the track is far from crowded.
The beach faces the mouth of the Camel Estuary and is backed by sand dunes, so it’s sheltered from the wind. The tide is still on its way out as we arrive and there are children and dogs alike playing in the shallows.
Every time I visit a place that could become a potential location for a scene inConfessions,I do some research, so I know that at low tide the sand here stretches over a mile and a half and is called the Doom Bar – the curse of mariners for centuries. Over six hundred ships have hit the sandbar since records began in the early 1800s.
It’s a hot, sunny day – one of the hottest days since I’ve been here – and ideal for the beach. Marty and I lay out towels and undress down to our swimming costumes, slathering on sunscreen and sunbathing as we used to on holidays years ago. We brought a light lunch to see us by, but at around two o’clock I find myself sitting up and paying more attention to the people on the beach. There’s always the chance that Charlie changed his mind.
At two thirty-five, I nudge Marty, feeling twitchy. ‘Time to go,’ I prompt, standing up and pulling on my skirt.
We walk beside the low cliff edge, dodging boulders and children clambering over the rock pools, until we reach a small, sandy beach. Then we climb up past the old lifeboat station and a row of coastguard houses, winding our way along the track until we come to another row of terraced houses. The gentle clinking of cutlery and cups on saucers mingles with the sound of our feet crunching up the pebbled footpath as the tearoom appears. It’s actually an outdoor cafe that’s situated in one of the gardens belonging to the houses, and there’s a serving hole in the wall that opens onto the kitchen. There aren’t many tables, so it takes me only seconds to determine who’s missing.
‘Charlie’s not here yet,’ I note with disappointment. A girl at one of the nearby tables tells us that she and her boyfriend are just finishing up, so we wait off to one side. I absentmindedly search the path.
We’re early.
And Charlie and April are late. By the time they arrive, the table has become free and we’ve almost finished the cold drinks we ordered to see us by.
‘Sorry we’re late,’ Charlie says, pushing through the gate with April in the baby carrier on his back. I leap up from my seat.
‘Hello!’ I exclaim, squeezing his arm in greeting.
‘Hey,’ he replies warmly, smiling at me as he unclips the backpack. I go around to help take some of the weight of the baby carrier as he lowers it to the ground, the muscles on his arms flexing. He unclips April’s harness and I lift her out while he holds the backpack steady, then I carry her with me to the table.
‘Marty, this is April.’ I smile at my friend as I rest April on my hip. ‘And this is Charlie.’ I glance at him, feeling peculiarly proud.
He leans in to shake Marty’s hand. ‘Hi.’
Yep, she thinks he’s hot, too.
‘Have you guys ordered?’ Charlie’s eyes rove between us.
‘No, we’ve been holding off. I’ll come up with you.’
‘What are you going to have?’ he asks me as he scans a menu over by the serving hole.
‘Cream tea.’
‘Me too.’ He rests his elbows on the counter as he places the order for all of us, but I insist on paying.
‘Thank you,’ he says to me as we turn away, touching the small of my back.
