Page 2 of Best Summer Ever

The interior paintwork was a little faded, peeling in places, and the bench seat cushions weren’t quite as plump, but it was all achingly familiar, right down to the enamel plates and cups on the shelf in the tiny space carved out as a kitchen.

Having already checked the tide times, I tied up my dark hair, slipped quickly into my swimming costume, then ran down to the sea, dumped my towel a way back from the shoreline and strode in. The temperature was bracing and it took my breath away, but I knew that the trick to coping with the shock was to keep moving, so I began to swim straightaway.

I also knew it was vital to get back to the shore before I started to tire, but I was very nearly tempted to stay in the water longer than I should. My mind had cleared completely as I powered through the sea, my thoughts only returning when I stopped to check how far out I was and saw rucksack guy on the sand, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun and looking in, what I thought, was my direction, before striding away.

I didn’t track where he went after that and carried on until the cold really started to make its presence felt. Only then did I reluctantly head in. I was shaking with cold as I wrapped my towel around me, but the sun was brightly shining and I was almost warm again by the time I’d crossed the sand for the sanctuary of the beach hut to get dressed in.

My temperature soared sharply to somewhere around tropical, however, as, completely naked, I roughly rubbed myself down and the hut door opened, exposing almost all of me to the rest of the world.

‘Hey!’ I yelped, quickly covering myself up with the length of the towel. ‘This is private property!’

‘Sorry,’ came that American accent again. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise anyone was in this one.’

‘Well, I am! I’m in this one!’ I shouted after his retreating back, as I slammed the door shut and turned the key in the lock.

I wondered, once I was dressed and as I attempted to run my fingers through the tangles in my hair in lieu of a hairbrush, just how much of me he’d seen before he’d turned tail and if his vocabulary ever extended further than making apologies.

‘Daisy?’ said Sam, the handsome green-eyed owner of the Smuggler’s Inn, when I ventured along to the pub. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Well, hello to you too,’ I laughed, as my eyes became accustomed to the dark interior after the bright July sun, and I perched myself on a stool at the bar.

‘Sorry,’ he laughed as well, ‘it’s just that I haven’t seen you in years and I didn’t know you were coming back. Penny and Nick haven’t mentioned that you were going to be in the area.’

Penny and Nick were my two closest friends. We’d been at school together since kindergarten. Unlike me, they’d both stayed local and also unlike me, they’d been far better at keeping in touch. They were also both single and absolutely perfect for one another, but completely clueless about that.

‘That’s because Penny and Nick don’t know,’ I told Sam, feeling bad that I hadn’t kept my besties in the loop about my life for quite a while.

‘A surprise visit,’ Sam continued to smile, unaware of my guilt. ‘They’ll be thrilled. Your mum and dad will be chuffed too.’

My parents were actually the reason I’d decided to call in at the pub. I’d experienced something of a lightbulb moment as I’d walked back along the beach and was here as a result.

‘What can I get you?’ Sam asked. ‘It’s on me.’

‘Thank you.’ I smiled back. ‘I’ll have lemonade with plenty of ice and lemon, please.’

‘Coming right up.’

‘And a job, if you’ve got one going,’ I further requested.

‘A job?’ Sam frowned, packing the glass half full with ice.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s looking like I’m going to be here a while and it would be great to be working while I am.’

This was a masterstroke on my part because as long as Sam could offer me some shifts behind the bar, it meant I wasn’t about to turn up at home with nothing to offer. If I could soften the blow of my single status with the promise of some work already lined up to see me through the summer, that would hopefully ease some of the frown lines that would doubtless be etched across Mum and Dad’s foreheads when I told them why I was back.

‘You’re serious?’ Sam asked, setting the lemonade down in front of me.

‘Yes.’ I nodded. ‘I’m currently between jobs, so some bar work to cover the summer would be great.’

The pub was always a quiet spot, so learning on the job shouldn’t prove too taxing. Pulling pints was a skill I hadn’t yet added to my repertoire and the quiet ambience of the Smuggler’s would be as ideal a place to learn in as any.

‘Well, that’s actually perfect,’ said Sam, rubbing his hands together. ‘Because I’m about to lose both Sophie’s cooking skills and Hope serving behind the bar—’

‘I’m not up to cooking for the public,’ I warned him, before he thrust an apron in my direction. ‘And I don’t actually have any experience of bar work, but I can wait on tables.’

I thought it was only fair to warn him that if he did offer me a job, he would be taking on a total novice.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ he somewhat surprisingly said, ‘that’s fine. Tess has been learning Sophie’s recipes and will do the food, but that will leave the bar a bit short. Would have left the bar a bit short,’ he corrected, looking speculatively at me. ‘I don’t suppose it would take long to train you up.’

---