Summer at Coastguard Cottages

A memory of a skinny-dip down in the cove on that long-ago holiday flashed into his mind. Three or four teenage girls, splashing and giggling. He and Chris hidden in the bushes, enjoying the scene, afraid to move for fear of discovery. Not brave enough to join the girls.

Guiltily he pulled the curtains closed before turning away. Before leaving the room to go downstairs in search of his whisky, he switched the light on to warn them someone was awake. Didn’t want the neighbours for the next few weeks labelling him a Peeping Tom before he’d even met them.

*

‘Oh, I can’t tell you how good this feels,’ Karen murmured as she and Hazel floated lazily on their backs in the pool. ‘Good idea of yours.’

‘Bliss,’ Hazel said. ‘We should make a pact to do this at least once a week when everyone is in bed.’

‘Not sure about when Charlie and his mates are down in August,’ Karen said. ‘They’d probably get the binoculars trained on us. Otherwise, great idea.’

‘Not compulsory to skinny-dip. We could just come and swim at midnight – it’s so different down here then. Proper alone time.’

Karen turned over and began to do a leisurely breast stroke across the width of the pool. ‘You wait,’ she said. ‘Empty-nest-syndrome time is approaching. You’ll have plenty of alone time then. Probably more than you want.’ She reached the side of the pool and took a deep breath. ‘God, I hadn’t realised I was so unfit. Definitely need to swim every day.’

‘Having an empty nest sounds so appealing at the moment,’ Hazel said.

‘Tia being a teenage pain?’

Hazel spluttered. ‘She’s like seventeen going on twenty-seven these days – when she’s not throwing a tantrum like a seven-year-old.’

‘I remember Francesca behaving like that. Surely the twins too?’

‘Yes, but I swear Tia is worse than the two of them put together. Honestly, I can’t wait for her to go to uni.’

‘Wills arriving might help. Having someone near her own age around.’

Hazel nodded. ‘Hope so. Race you for a length?’

Karen shook her head. ‘Not fit enough to race but I’ll do a length behind you.’

Doing a fast front crawl, Hazel reached the far end first and trod water waiting for Karen. As Karen reached her they both heard an owl tooting from one of the tall pine trees that bordered the grounds, but otherwise the night was silent apart from the sound of the sea below them.

Karen grabbed hold of the steps’ rail to climb out of the pool, pausing for a moment on the second one to look up at the moonlight-illuminated terrace of houses. Beautiful.

‘I love this place. I don’t know how Derek can even think of asking me to sell it,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘It’s been a part of my life for so long.’

‘How is Derek?’ Hazel asked.

Karen shrugged. ‘Nothing changes,’ she said before swearing under her breath and climbing out of the pool, reaching for one of the towels they’d left on a chair and wrapping it around her body.

‘What’s the matter?’ Hazel said, joining her by the chair.

‘Quick, you’d better have this,’ Karen said, handing her the other towel. ‘There’s a light on in No. 3. I hope to hell whoever it is hasn’t been watching us for the last twenty minutes.’

*

‘Which way?’ Bruce said, stopping at the T-junction. ‘Restaurant in town or a walk on the beach and a pub lunch?’

‘Oh, a walk and then a pub lunch,’ Karen said without hesitation. ‘Another week and it’ll be impossible to get a table for the hordes of holidaymakers.’

‘Slapton Ley, here we come then,’ Bruce said, taking the left turn onto the narrow coast road.

Lots of traffic meant Bruce needed to concentrate on his driving rather than talking, and Karen was happy to stay quiet and look at the passing countryside.

Empty fields shorn of their crops were sporting a yellow stubble. In others, tractors were racing against time to gather the last of the hay before the threatened rain arrived. Holidaymakers, with their exuberant holiday shirts and shorts, wandered aimlessly along the coastal road, happy to be enjoying their freedom from workday routines.

It wasn’t until they’d parked the car and were striding out along Slapton Sands that Karen said, ‘Charlie’s friend in No. 3 is keeping a low profile. Haven’t had sight nor sound of him. Have you?’ She didn’t mention the light the night she and Hazel had been skinny-dipping.

Bruce shook his head. ‘No. I did wonder if he’d venture out to join us one evening – he must have heard us. Maybe I’ll knock on the door later, invite him for tonight’s sundowner. Let him know the natives are friendly. Although if he just wants to be left alone...’ Bruce shrugged.

‘He’ll have to show himself sometime,’ Karen said. ‘So, what is it you wanted to talk about?’

‘Gabby’s ashes,’ Bruce said. ‘Ages ago, long before either of us ever thought it would happen, we both promised to scatter the other’s ashes in a favourite place.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘I still can’t believe I’m having to think about doing it.’

‘You want me to be with you when you do it?’ Karen asked gently. ‘Of course I will. Where did Gabby want to be scattered? By the coastguard cottages?’

Bruce shook his head. ‘That’s my choice, but she said she wanted them scattered in the sea by the American memorial along here. Said she’d feel close to both me and her American roots that way.’

Karen glanced at him. ‘I’d almost forgotten Gabby was American. Her accent was more Home Counties than New York City.’

Bruce laughed. ‘She worked really hard at it. She so wanted to fit in and not stand out. Yet she never really forgot her roots, despite never going back after her studies here finished.’

‘Did you bring her ashes today?’ Karen asked gently.

Bruce shook his head. ‘No. I was thinking I’d do it on her birthday and then in the evening invite everyone to have a drink and celebrate her life.’

‘That’s what we’ll do then,’ Karen said, threading her arm through Bruce’s. ‘I’ll do the food for you.’

Bruce squeezed her arm gratefully. ‘Talking of food, shall we turn round and get to the pub? I’m starving.’

By the time they got back to the pub the lunchtime rush was starting. Karen managed to grab a couple of seats at a window table while Bruce went to the bar to order and get their drinks. Half a lager for him and a glass of wine for her.

The pub had been one of her parents’ favourite lunchtime haunts and she remembered them dragging both her and her brother for lunchtime fish and chips whenever they were in Devon. They’d never complained about coming, even if as teenagers they’d found their parents’ company boring. The fish and chips were always worth it.

It was ages, though, since she’d eaten here. When Derek was down he always insisted on going to the fish restaurant in Dartmouth, and on her own she could rarely be bothered to drive out this way.

Derek. A few more days and he’d be here. Still no news on how long he was planning to stay. This last week being away from him had made her realise just how hyper-sensitive and tense she was whenever he was around. A fleeting visit would suit her better. Then she could relax and enjoy Wills’ company – and Francesca’s when she arrived.

‘You’re looking very serious,’ Bruce said, placing her glass of wine in front of her. ‘Did someone upset you?’

‘No,’ Karen said. ‘I was just thinking about…’ She hesitated, searching for something to say. She couldn’t tell Bruce yet what she’d really been thinking. ‘Food for when Wills gets here. Planning a welcome home dinner is a serious business. Cheers.’ Karen picked up her drink and took a sip. ‘You promised to tell me more about your plans today?’

‘I’m thinking of moving to The Bosun’s Locker permanently,’ Bruce said. ‘Selling my flat and doing something Gabby and I swore we’d never do – renovate something down here. I’ve seen a townhouse I rather fancy as a project. We liked keeping the business and our private lives separate, but now…’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t want to stay in town, or in the apartment with its memories, and I love it down here, so why not?’ He looked at Karen anxiously, seeking her reassurance.

‘Gosh. There are memories associated with the cottage and Gabby as well, though,’ Karen said. ‘You’ll have to live with those.’

‘I know. But I feel somehow it will be easier not having lived full-time down here. At least I won’t be sitting around staring at the wall, wondering what I’m going to do. Like I have been for the past months.’

Before Karen could answer, the waitress arrived with their lunch, carefully placing the plates on the table before asking, ‘Is there anything else? More drinks?’

When they both shook their heads and muttered ‘No thanks’, she beamed at them, said ‘Enjoy your meal’, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

For several minutes the two of them concentrated on their fish and chips, enjoying them while they were hot.

‘You don’t have to stare at the walls in town. You could buy somewhere else in a different area and carry on with your business up there,’ Karen said eventually.

‘I know, but dealing with the same builders and interior designers, not to mention planning officers, will just serve to keep reminding me Gabby’s gone. Whereas down here I’d have to find a completely new team, deal with new officials, etcetera. I’m sure it would be easier.’

‘You could be right. But it’s a big change.’

‘It’ll take time to organise, of course. Selling the apartment, buying the townhouse. Probably be next year before it all came together.’

‘Putting business aside: what about friends and a social life? I know there’s lots going on out at the cottages in summer but winter is quiet.’

‘I’ve already got a few friends down here, so I’m sure I can build on that,’ Bruce said. ‘I’ll probably make more of an effort to socialise once I’m down here permanently.’

Karen picked up her wine glass and took a sip. ‘That last remark makes it sound as though you’ve made up your mind to do it.’

Bruce, realising what he’d said, smiled and picked up his lager. ‘You know what? I think I might have. God only knows whether it’s the right thing to do or not, but I’m going to give it my best shot. Cheers.’

‘Good luck. Here’s to the future.’

As Karen clinked glasses with Bruce, he said, ‘Thanks for listening. It always helps to have someone to bounce ideas off.’

‘You’re welcome any time,’ Karen said.

Bruce hesitated. ‘I’m more than willing to be a sounding board for you too, if you ever need it,’ he said quietly, looking at her. ‘I know you used to talk to Gabby – not that she ever told me what you talked about,’ he added quickly.

Karen drained her glass before replacing it on the table. ‘I know, thank you, but I’m good at the moment.’ And she smiled brightly at him. No point in talking to anyone until she’d worked out in her own head which way she wanted to go.

Bruce was right. She had talked to Gabby occasionally in the past, woman to woman, but it would be good to get a man’s unbiased point of view on things that were going on in her life. Sometime this summer she would talk about the logistics of her life with Bruce, knowing he would tell her the truth and give her sound advice, but today was not the day.

‘Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me,’ Bruce said. ‘Now, how about dessert? I see they’ve got my favourite on the menu – apple pie and clotted cream.’

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