It’s funny to look back to that first day they came round and think how strange it felt then having people here. Now it happens so often that the beach hut happily expands to welcome whoever descends on us. Where I used to feel engulfed and overwhelmed, I now feel happy and fulfilled. It’s as if by rediscovering my hostess role, I’m redefining myself.
Milla beams. ‘And we’re all coming back here later to finish off the afternoon with plant pot painting. As Mum says, someone has to use up that pot of pink paint Granny Suze bought you, it’s a shame to let it go to waste. It’s a good thing we’re all in our ironic Barbie pink phase.’
This is another of Milla’s brainwaves she sprang on me yesterday before I could say no. An hour later, when we roll into Kit’s, it’s a relief I’ve avoided being pushed into anything more. The doors between the studio and the veranda are thrown wide open, and there’s a long wooden table placed across the beach hut.
Kit looks pretty relaxed as he grins at me and shows the girls to their places. ‘Six of you each side, and there’s a board and a set of tools for each of you. Floss will bring round some ring blanks to practise with first.’
I sidle up behind him. ‘Nice cut offs.’ It’s the first time I’ve seen him working in shorts, and he’s teamed them with my favourite Paul Smith T-shirt.
‘Quicksilver flip flops too.’ He looks super proud of himself.
I give him a discreet nudge. ‘Well done for getting down with the teenagers.’
Milla’s waving her finger in the air. ‘I take it we’re okay to put our playlist on to work to, Kit?’ She pulls a speaker out of her bag and stands it on the table. ‘No offence, but we’ll be way more creative listening to Wet Leg and Olivia Rodrigo rather than The Beach Boys.’
I murmur to Kit. ‘Don’t take it personally, you’ve come a long way with your music.’
Kit gave them a choice of methods for their ring-making earlier in the week and the girls opted for the one where they carve hard wax blanks, leaving Kit to cast the rings in silver later, using the three-dimensional templates they’ve created.
As Kit starts to demonstrate what each of the cutting tools do, I take the box of blanks round to give them one to play with, then go round again giving them a second, letting them size them properly for their chosen fingers. Once everyone’s got what they need, I leave Kit promising they can come back to make rings using the other methods another time, and I do a quick dash to drop off the last boxes of scones for the hotel.
By the time I get back, Sophie has arrived wearing the dress I spent a good ten minutes searching for at home earlier, and she’s got herself a ring blank too.
She murmurs under her breath, ‘After what happened with Mum and the pool, I thought I’d seize the opportunity to be on site.’
I lower my voice. ‘Have you heard anyone mention it at all?’
Sophie shakes her head. ‘Not a peep! But it’s impossible to keep a secret in St Aidan.’
Behind us the girls are fully absorbed with their carving. As the conversation moves onto wedding rings Kit’s answering their questions as fast as they fire them, showing them pictures on his phone.
Then Milla puts up her finger again. ‘As you’re the expert, Kit, we might as well ask – how can we tell when we’ve met “the one”?’
Kit gives an unbothered shrug. ‘Sometimes you just know because it feels different from anything else that came before it.’ He turns to me and grins. ‘It can happen in an instant, can’t it, Floss?’
I answer before I think. ‘Totally.’ Then I protest. ‘Why have you broughtmeinto this? I’m St Aidan’smost committed single person!’
He laughs. ‘I just wanted to see your cheeks go pink.’
I’m going to widen this out before they go scarlet. ‘At any moment any one of us may only be a heartbeat away from finding that special person. The studio seems to be the kind of place that puts people in the mood for falling in love.’ I’m kicking myself for how wrongly that came out too. Milla is opening her mouth to pick me up on it, but I’m saved on two fronts. First, Pink starts singing ‘Just Give Me A Reason’ and everyone immediately starts singing along, and then Rye strides in.
I jump forward. ‘Rye! I dropped your personal brownies off at your office earlier so you didn’t have to turn up to an opposition event.’
He laughs. ‘Catch up, Floss! We’ve actually moved their afternoon tea from here across to the hotel. I know this is a sea pool fundraiser, but the word-of-mouth publicity we’ll get for the Pleasure Dome more than makes up for that compromise.’
Sophie raises an eyebrow at me, then turns to Rye. ‘I hear business is picking up nicely since Floss sweetened your range?’
He nods. ‘We’re proving a very popular destination for ladies who like cake, and they’re coming for the treatments too.’ He looks at both of us. ‘And David is very committed to historic St Aidan because whatever local people think, he isn’t a complete stranger; he actually remembers the sea pool as a boy.’
My mouth falls open. ‘I thought he was from Australia?’
Rye purses his lips. ‘That’s where he made his fortune, but he was in St Aidan for the sea air for a short time in the eighties. He rented a cottage on the hillside above the harbour.’ Rye’s wave and description covers most of the houses in St Aidan. ‘That’s why he particularly wanted to build the hotel here.’
‘Great.’ I’m saying this as someone who should be grateful we’re using his facilities, not because I think it is. In terms of historical dates, I often think ofThe Crown. Even if Byron spent a few weeks here while Charles was still married to Princess Diana, it doesn’t change anything forme. In my book, due to his underhand methods and dubious aims, David Byron is still a first-class shit.
Rye murmurs to us. ‘I’m here because I have news for the girls.’ As he moves towards the table several of the faces are definitely appreciating his good looks. ‘If I could have your attention, ladies! You’ll be having refreshments later in the dedicated dessert centre at the hotel. And the special part is…’ he pauses ‘…we’ve arranged for the High Tides gardeners to wait on you.’
The screams are so loud I have to clamp my hands over my ears. It’s okay for Rye. He just says, ‘You’re welcome!’ and a second later he’s gone, leaving us to deal with the mayhem.
