Page 31 of Best Summer Ever

‘That sounds terrible.’

I might have had some issues with my parents, but at least I had always had the comfort of somewhere special and per- manent to call home.

‘Sometimes it was terrible,’ Josh confirmed, ‘but I got to see a lot of the US while I was growing up.’

‘Your accent,’ I said with a frown. ‘I can’t place it.’

‘Yeah,’ he laughed, ‘not even I can pin it to any one place because of the constant moving about during my formative years.’

‘That makes sense,’ I said, taking the first bite of a strawberry and closing my eyes in pleasure as the intense flavour from childhood flooded my tastebuds.

‘Oh my god,’ Josh rapturously groaned, making my eyes spring open again, as he also bit into one. ‘These are heaven sent.’

‘That they are,’ I agreed. ‘That they are.’

We spent the entire day at the hut. I told Josh all about life on the Wynbrook Estate. How Algy was a wonderful employer and friend to everyone who lived there, what my parents’ roles were, and Nick’s, and how much of a challenge it was to keep a traditional estate and fruit farm running with dwindling local staff and stiff supermarket competition. I might have been out of the loop when it came to news from home, but that much I did know.

In turn, Josh told me some more about his life in America, but not in any great detail. I didn’t mind that though. I didn’t need to know the ins and out of his entire life – even if he seemed keen to absorb mine – if he was only going to be a summer fling and a welcome distraction from living back with Mum and Dad.

The most important thing I needed to know was that he wasn’t already in a relationship. He told me he had been single for quite some time but didn’t elaborate, which suited me. I did wonder if he might have commitment issues as a result of his untethered childhood and lack of friends, but that didn’t matter to me either. Josh was easy-going company and fun to be around and that more than satisfied what I was temporarily looking for.

We swam together in the afternoon and I had a hard time keeping pace with him. I put that down to the fact that I’d exhausted myself earlier in the day and not because he was a stronger swimmer than I was.

‘Damn,’ I said, when we went back to the huts to dry off and I realised how late it was. ‘I’ll never get back to the cottage for a shower before work now.’

I was surprised by how quickly the day had flashed by. I’d never spent such a contented amount of time in the company of a stranger before and it was further confirmation that Josh and I were already getting along wonderfully well.

‘You’re welcome to shower at mine,’ he offered, shaking his head and spraying me with droplets of freezing sea water as it flew out of his hair.

‘Don’t!’ I yelped, but I was laughing. ‘No, it’ll be fine. I’ll see if Penny’s at home. I keep forgetting that she has a cottage in the village now. Come on, let’s go.’

It was long after four, so I hoped she would be.

‘Damn,’ I swore, when she didn’t answer her door. ‘She must still be at school.’

‘Look,’ said Josh, who had walked up to her cottage with me. ‘I need to head to the shops for some supplies, so whydon’t you take the key to mine and then leave it under the pot on the step when you’re done?’

‘Are you sure that would be okay?’ I asked, taking the key before he’d replied.

‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘Go on. I won’t see you at the pub tonight, but I’ll be in tomorrow.’

I was disappointed to hear that, but there was no time to wallow over his absence with the clock to my next shift ticking.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘Thanks, Josh.’

There was no time to linger in the cottage either, which was every bit as beautiful on the inside as it was picturesque on the outside. There was very little evidence of Josh’s occupancy, but I did enjoy using his hair products and shower gel. At least he was going to be with me in spirit throughout the evening.

‘I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!’ I laughed, when I tripped into the pub, just a few minutes after my starting time and with my hair still damp from the shower.

‘Hey, there,’ said the woman behind the bar, whom I recognised as Tess. ‘You must be Daisy.’

‘That’s right,’ I said, quickly stowing my bag away and trying not to notice that the clock was telling me that I was a quarter of an hour late, rather than just the few minutes I thought I had been. ‘I’m sorry I’m late.’

‘I’m sorry about that too,’ said Sam as he rushed through from the kitchen carrying plates. ‘Don’t make a habit out of it, okay?’

‘I won’t.’ I swallowed, feeling my face flush. ‘I’ll clear those tables, shall I?’

‘That’s what you’re here for,’ he huffed. ‘Tess, why don’t you head back to the kitchen now Daisy’s turned up?’

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