Page 18 of The Big Dip in Crumbleton

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‘Libbymy aunt fanny,’ said Lou, rolling her eyes. ‘More like hoping for a few minutes alone with Mr Windswept-and-Delicious over there?!’

‘I have no idea what you mean!’ said Scarlett blandly.

‘Sure, sure,’ chuckled Lou. ‘I believe you, though millions wouldn’t. Don’t canoodle for too long—the waves wait for no woman!’

CHAPTER7

Airbus A380: Engineering a Double-Deck Sky Palace

Pioneering Spirit: The World’s Largest Twin-Hull Vessel That Lifts Entire Oil Platforms

Antonov An-225 Mriya: Legacy of the World’s Largest Cargo Plane

Inside the GPO Amethyst: How a Heavy-Lift Giant Moves the Unmovable

PETE

Pete glanced at his watch for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Three minutes to eleven. The safety briefing had run longer than expected, and now he was cutting it fine to get everything set up on the beach before the swimmers descended en masse.

‘Got to dash,’ he announced to no one in particular, untying his apron and tossing it onto the counter. ‘Flags need setting up.’

Scarlett looked up from where she was wiping down the coffee machine. ‘Need any help?’

The offer was tempting. He’d love nothing more than to spend a few minutes pottering around on the beach with her… but Pete shook his head. ‘Thanks, but I’ve got it covered. Besides, you’ve done more than enough already. Time for you to enjoy the event!’

Scarlett smiled at him, but there was something strained about it. Pete quietly vowed to keep a close watch on her in the water… andnotjust because he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off her anyway.

Grabbing his bright yellow lifeguard vest from behind the counter, Pete slipped it on, doing his best to ignore the way Libby was smirking at him from across the café. His sister had been making knowing faces at him all morning, ever since Scarlett had stepped in to save them from the coffee chaos. He’d deal with her later. Right now, he had a job to do.

‘See you guys in a bit,’ he said, dashing for the door.

Outside, the sun was beating down on the beach, turning the sand into a golden carpet that stretched as far as the eye could see. The tide was still on its way in, meaning the swimmers wouldn’t have too far to walk when they’d had enough of playing in the chilly waves.

Pete jogged down the wooden steps from the deck, his feet sinking slightly into the soft sand at the bottom. He headed for the Surf Club’s equipment shed, which was tucked just behind the dunes. Its weathered blue paint was peeling in places, and its door was perpetually stuck in its frame. He gave it a practised shove with his shoulder, and it swung open with a familiar creak.

Inside, the musty scent of neoprene and damp wood greeted him. Pete quickly located the red and yellow flags they used to mark the designated swimming area, along with the rescue boards and the bright orange buoys. He hefted it all into his arms and headed back out onto the beach.

The rest of the lifeguard team was already assembling near the water’s edge. They were a motley crew, to say the least—a mix of ages and backgrounds united by their love of the sea and their commitment to keeping people safe in it.

Despite their laid-back appearance—all sun-bleached hair, nose piercings and elaborate tattoos—Pete knew he could trust them implicitly.

‘Cutting it fine, mate,’ called Mick. He’d already changed into his wetsuit, which was faded from years of sun exposure. His grey beard was twisted into two small plaits, giving him the look of a weathered Viking.

‘Blame your little speech,’ Pete retorted, dropping the equipment onto the sand. ‘Next time, maybe stick to the point instead of telling everyone about your spiritual connection with the jellyfish population.’

Mick laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to come from his toes. ‘The people need to know, man. The people need to know. Anyway, someone had to step in when you lost the plot staring at that pretty new waitress!’