He nodded. ‘We do.’ He spread a hand to where a fingernail moon lit a silvery path on the sea. ‘We’ve got all we need here. Family, friends, jobs. I work at the local council, Lucie’s at uni in Exeter, which can be a bit of a drive but she only has to go in twice a week.’ He shrugged. ‘We don’t have much money and I doubt we’ll ever get a foot on the property ladder but it suits us.’
‘And volunteering with the lifeboat must put you right at the heart of the community.’
‘Oh yes. Any seaside town needs its RNLI crew and the lifeboat needs the town.’ Jamie’s lips twisted. ‘We get the odd really serious shout, like a couple of Christmasses ago when we had to rescue a stricken yacht in a storm but a lot of my time is spent picking up stranded tourists who haven’t read the tide table. I do a lot of fundraising too, of course.’
‘Like the sandcastle competition?’
He took a swig of cider. ‘Like the sandcastle comp. It’s always popular. There’s a raft race on next week if you fancy it. That’s always good fun. And don’t forget to buy your town quiz sheet and raffle tickets. Lucie’s put loads of work into the quiz questions.’
‘Do you ever wonder what’s beyond Lullbury Bay?’ Callie asked, envying his rock-solid sense of his place in his community.
‘Oh yeah. Wouldn’t be human if I didn’t. Lucie gets a bit fidgety sometimes. Wants to do stuff we don’t have the money or the time for but mostly she loves it here as much as I do. And of course, come winter the place’ll be completely different.’
‘In what way?’ Callie tore open a bag of nuts and put them between them to share.
‘Thanks.’ He took a handful. ‘Fewer tourists.’ He nodded back to the pub with a grin. ‘More lock-ins. Place goes quiet, comes back to its own. And, when you get a warm sunny day in February, it’s a gift.’
‘A gift?’
‘Light’s so clear it’s like a jewel. You can see to Portland and beyond, and to Berry Head down west. You have the beach to yourself. The winter storms will have brought in sea glass and the odd fossil and the tide stretches out so far, the sand is like a mirror.’ He stopped, looking embarrassed at how much he was revealing. ‘Wouldn’t live anywhere else.’
Callie pictured herself in front of her easel painting that wonderful light, so clear it was like a jewel. ‘People keep saying that to me. That they’d never live anywhere else.’
‘Well,’ he admitted, flicking back a lock of hair, ‘the place can be a pain in high summer. Crowded, nowhere to park. Bank Holidays are a nightmare. If I’m not on a shift at the lifeboat, I hunker down and don’t go anywhere. But, give the town another month and it’ll all calm down, give a sigh, shake its feathers and rest up until the new season. Christmas is really good fun. We have a carol singsong down here on the harbour, the beach huts get decorated and everyone troops up to St Winifred’s in the old town for the Christmas Eve service. I mean, I’m not religious oranything but it’s something I never miss. Oh, and the New Year’s Day Dip is a right laugh, although I’m normally on duty then.’
‘The what?’
He took another handful of nuts and said, through a mouthful, ‘You get sponsored, get up in fancy dress and go for a swim in the sea.’
‘In January?’ Callie couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice.
Jamie laughed at her horrified expression. ‘It’s okay if you’re swimming, not that most do, all they tend to do is run in and then run straight out again. Shrieking. Think of me, standing thigh deep, making sure no one gets out of their depth or has had one too many in here beforehand. It’s brilliant fun and raises shedloads for the lifeboat. Claud here puts on food afterwards. You can’t count yourself a true Lullbury Bay local until you’ve done at least one New Year’s Day Dip.’
Looking round at the packed beer garden, it was hard to imagine Lullbury Bay in a quieter season. But Christmas in a seaside town appealed. She loved the sense of community that shone through Jamie’s words. Most of what she did was school based; she hadn’t had time to do much more beyond her weekly rock choir. The idea of throwing herself wholeheartedly into wider community life was seductive. After all, as Donna had pointed out, Frida wouldn’t be around for much longer.
Staring at Jamie’s handsome face and at the goodness that emanated from it, she fervently hoped her daughter would find a man as kind. If that’s what she wanted.
She was jolted out of her reverie by Avril appearing at her shoulder.
‘Callie! Hi. Thought it was you I saw up at the castle. Wasn’t it good? Let me introduce you to Brenda, another blow-in and a fellow Shakespeare nut.’
Callie said hello to an immaculately groomed older woman with a pin-sharp silver bob and long dangly earrings. A little girl of about ten stood with her.
Jamie stood up. ‘Room for you two if you don’t mind a squeeze. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll pop back inside and have a chat with a couple of crewmen. Hope Jago and Honor are having a good holiday, Avril?’ He ruffled the little girl’s luxurious curls. ‘Hey, Merryn, are you allowed a Coke? And can I get you and Brenda a drink too?’
‘She is,’ Avril replied, ‘but just the one or she’ll never sleep. Two white wines if you don’t mind. Thanks, my lovely. That’s ever so kind of you, Jamie. Crowded down here tonight. I was dreading going up to the bar. It’s a right ruckus in there. And, yes, Jago and Honor are having a wonderful time. Honor’s nearly exhausted her Kindle and Jago hasn’t stopped painting. Had a postcard this morning. Don’t you just love an old-fashioned postcard?’ She lifted a leg over the picnic bench, surprisingly niftily and plopped herself down next to Callie. ‘Here you go, Mer, you can sit on my lap.’
The girl eyed her loftily. ‘Not a chance. I’m happy to stand, thanks, Mum.’
‘This is my daughter, Merryn,’ Avril said to Callie, with a grin. ‘Once met never forgotten. This is Callie, Merryn, who is staying at Sea Haven House up the hill from us. She’s an artist.’
‘Cool.’ The girl’s eyes gleamed. ‘My big brother’s an artist. He’s a glass artist. Makes big panels and they go into a posh gallery in Islington. That’s in London. His name’s Jago Pengethley.’
‘But I know his work,’ Callie answered, surprised. She remembered Avril mentioning a Jago. ‘It’s beautiful. I love the colours he uses. So your son is Jago Pengethley, Avril? I hadn’t realised. He’s getting really well known.’
‘He is. He has a studio over at the Art School. We’re very proud of him, aren’t we, Merryn?’
Merryn nodded vigorously. ‘He makes little light-catchers too. I like them the most. I’ve got one of a yacht on a stormy sea. Like the storm in the play. It was good how they lit that material blue and grey and made it wave up and down to show the storm, wasn’t it? And it was all sequin-y. Caught the light.’ She nodded again. ‘Although I thinkKing Learis my favourite play.’
