He’s on his feet. ‘No worries, it’s fine.’
A nanosecond later Kit pulls the shirt over his head and as he scrunches it up, I’m left gaping at a tanned torso that’s nothing like Dillon’s much narrower, gym-hardened version. Not that I’m comparing. These shoulders are large and naturally muscled. Wide and strong enough to throw me over them. Not that I’d let him.Not in a thousand years.
I’m opening and closing my mouth, grasping for words. ‘Can I lend you a T-shirt?’
He unzips his camera bag, and a moment later there’s a flap of white fabric. ‘This is why I always carry spares. Luckily, I have one last clean shirt.’
I let out a sigh because he’s so full-on. ‘And a hundred and ninety-nine in the wash?’
‘Thank you for doing the counting.’ He catches my eye and grins. ‘No need to look that dismayed, Floss. The chocolate missed my trousers so the good news is thattheystay on.’
I should be grateful for the small wins. But from where I’m standing, none of this is good.
18
The Hideaway, St Aidan
Undercoats and overcoats
Tuesday
By the time Shadow and I get back from our after-breakfast walk next morning, my mum has arrived as promised and she’s ready to go.
‘As soon as we’ve spread out the dust sheets, we’ll do the painting right away.’
Kit sent me some photos from yesterday, and I’m pleased I forwarded them on to the gang and saw their comments and flashing heart emojis before going out, because there won’t be any time now. Mum’s in her hundred-per-cent painting overalls, and the stack of Hardware Haven carrier bags and paint rollers she’s piled across the deck obliterate every trace of last night’s romance.
I can forget about basking in the praise from Bianca and Salvador too, because my mum is like a tornado. I’m struggling to get to grips with the change of pace, hoping I’m not rushing into this. ‘Should we do a tester square first to check the colour?’
She waves away my concern. ‘One coat should cover it. If you don’t like it, we’ll paint it again.’
‘Would you like a coffee before we begin?’ As I play for time I’m waving at Jean and Shirley in their red puffer jackets further along the beach. Now we know each other better we’ve reached an understanding that they can pop in whenever they like to have whatever’s in my fridge, and pay at the end of every fortnight.
Mum pulls the tie belt that’s nipping in her waist even tighter. ‘We can have a drink later.’ She follows my gaze along the beach. ‘If your friends are coming over, I’ll get everything inside while you see what they want.’
As Jean and Shirley climb the steps, I call to them, ‘Sorry, we’re busy decorating this morning.’ I know better than to get in Mum’s way while she’s working.
Shirley pats my arm. ‘Don’t worry about that, we’ve just come from Seaspray Cottage.’ She looks up at the light strings blowing in the wind. ‘We couldn’t help overhearing Clemmie and Nell looking at your photos. So you’re moving into evening entertaining?’
Jean peers past a carrier bag with paint rollers spilling out and stares pointedly at a lantern. ‘As the secret’s out we came straight away.’
It was one couple for barely an hour, but with the St Aidan bush telegraph, who needs advertising? ‘Do you have something in mind?’
Shirley beams at me. ‘Six of us, on Thursday. A little surprise to toast our friend’s seventieth. Seven until nine would be perfect.’
‘We know it’s short notice.’ Jean is frowning. ‘But we’d love to be the first to help you expand your horizons.’
Telling it like it is isn’t a problem with these two. ‘I could do you a selection of sweets on our usual terms if you provide the Prosecco and glasses?’
‘Lovely. We’ll let you get on.’ They’re already going back down the steps. ‘Can we bring our own birthday cake?’
‘Absolutely.’
My mum comes out for the last bag. ‘Another booking?’
It’s not what I intended or wanted, but with a lido on the horizon it’s sink or swim. I might need to go forward with my instincts a bit more.
I nod. ‘If I make the beach hut matter to people, even in a small way, then they won’t want to see it demolished.’
