Page 45 of All Summer Long

‘If this is a holiday romance, there’s something vital that’s missing,’ she said.

Robinson frowned, still too asleep to guess.

‘The sea,’ she said, grinning. ‘I want to take you to the seaside, Robinson.’

The idea had formed in her head after a hushed, late-night pillow conversation as they’d drifted off to sleep the night before. He’d said if she listened hard enough she’d be able to hear the sea, his mouth warm on her ear, and even though she couldn’t hear it, it’d sowed a seed. She wanted to hear the sea, really hear it, with him.

‘The seaside?’ he said. ‘In Borne?’

Alice rolled her eyes. ‘Of course not in Borne,’ she said, finishing the last of her drink. ‘We’re just about as central as we can be here, but we can make the coast in a couple of hours on a good run.’ She glanced at the cool box by the door. ‘I packed us a picnic.’

Robinson swallowed a mouthful of coffee. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out, Goldilocks,’ he said. Neither his words nor his expression gave away what he thought of her plan.

‘I know you don’t want people knowing you’re here, but if you put on a cap and sunglasses no one will look twice,’ she said, bobbing with suppressed excitement. ‘I think we could both do with a break from the manor for a day, don’t you? You even more than me. You’ve barely left the grounds since you arrived.’

‘I’ve never been to the English seaside,’ he said, making it sound quaint.

‘Strictly speaking, you won’t today, either. We’re heading for Barmouth, which is Welsh.’

‘Welsh, huh? Remind me to grab my passport from the manor,’ he said, winking as he leant over to take her empty cup and put both mugs down on the floor. As he lay back he reached out and pulled her down onto the bed on top of him.

‘Fancy skinny dipping in the ocean with me, Goldilocks?’ he said, sliding his hands up the back of her thighs and inside the edge of her shorts to cup her backside.

Laughter bubbled up in Alice’s throat.

‘It’s the Irish Sea, Robinson, not the Pacific.’

He looked up at her with serious eyes. ‘No nakedness at all?’

Alice shook her head, and then giggled as Robinson whipped her top up and off.

‘In that case Wales can wait half an hour,’ he said, reaching for her bikini ties behind her neck, and Alice decided he was absolutely right.

‘Mr. Whippy?’ Robinson said doubtfully when Alice handed him an ice-cream cone on the beach a few hours later. ‘What is he, an ice-cream seller or a male escort?’

Alice tried to picture the bald pensioner who’d just served her ice cream as a male escort and started to laugh as she flopped down beside him on the towels.

All around them, the beach buzzed with activity; children playing cricket and building sandcastles, teenagers sunbathing and posing, and harassed parents erecting wind breakers to stake out their territory even though there was barely a breeze in the air. The shore line was as busy as a city pavement at Christmas, and the whole beach rang with the happy chatter and shouts of people out to play in the sunshine.

‘I came here often as a child,’ Alice said, licking her ice cream.

‘With your dad?’

She nodded, remembering days spent messing around in rock pools with sandy toes and eating candy floss from the bag on the sleepy car ride home.

‘He loved to people watch, always had his camera at the ready just in case the perfect shot appeared.’

‘Like father, like daughter,’ Robinson said softly, rubbing ice-cream cone crumbs from his fingers before tapping the camera that hung around her neck.

Alice finished her own cone and unsnapped the camera from its case. Holding it to her face, she swept it slowly around the beach, clicking off shots, and then finally turned it towards Robinson, now lying back with his eyes closed and the peak of his cap resting on his nose. He tilted his head when he heard the camera and opened one eye.

‘Put it down and relax, pretty face. You’re on holiday, remember?’

Alice took a couple more shots and then did as he’d suggested, stretching out and basking in the sunshine. Robinson’s fingers played idly with hers between them in the sand.

‘Feels good,’ he murmured.

‘Mmm,’ she said, thoroughly relaxed.

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