Page 31 of The Big Dip in Crumbleton
Pete pulled up outside Beachcomber Gifts just as his watch ticked over to seven o’clock. He’d made it. By the skin of his teeth, but he’d made it.
The afternoon had been a chaotic scramble of errands and last-minute panic, but somehow – miraculously – everything had fallen into place. His friend, Murray Eddington, had come up trumps with a spare suit he could borrow.
Luckily, Pete hadn’t even needed to row through the marshes to the grounded trawler where the eccentric marsh ranger lived to pick it up. Murray had been heading into town anyway, so they’d done a dodgy-suit-deal in the carpark just outside Crumbleton.
Of course, begging his friend for help had come at a high cost. Murray had held the suit hostage until Pete admitted that there was a very good reason he’d changed his mind about attending at the last minute… and her name was Scarlett.
Still, the interrogation had been worth it.
Pete checked his reflection in the rear-view mirror one last time. He had to admit—he looked pretty good. The midnight blue suit fit him better than he’d dared to hope. Murray was a good four inches taller than him, but other than that, they were the same build. He just hoped Scarlett liked it!
Pete let out a long breath, trying to steady his nerves. His brain had been at war with itself all afternoon. There had been several moments when he’d thoroughly regretted his rash decision to go back to the Big Dip Dance after all these years, but then his thoughts would turn to Scarlett, and the dread would turn to excitement… before swinging back around to dread again.
‘At least I’ll have some armour on,’ he muttered to himself, straightening his tie with fingers that weren’t quite steady.
The Dolphin and Anchor loomed large in his mind. His heart might have been broken on Crumbleton Sands’ golden beach, but it had received a further trampling at the dance that night. He hadn’t set foot in the place since, and part of him still couldn’t believe he was willingly going back.
But… the alternative was standing Scarlett up and letting Libby down in the process. Both options were infinitely worse than having to face a ghost he should have put to rest years ago.
Taking a deep breath, Pete stepped out of the van and circled around to the passenger side. His shoes—hastily polished with a tissue and a bit of board wax—felt horribly stiff and formal. If only he could have worn his flip-flops!
Pete eyeballed the van and let out a sigh. It wasn’t exactly a royal carriage, but it would have to do. At least it was a lot cleaner now. He’d dumped his makeshift bed in the Surf Club’s changing room to make space in the back for his sister. Then, while he was waiting for Murray to turn up with the suit, he’d managed to tackle the worst of the mess—gathering all the rubbish together and piling it into a public bin.
With that done, the van wasn’t half as scruffy. Even better, he’d discovered an ancient lunchbox in the process… which was probably the source of the mysterious smell that had been plaguing him for weeks.
Sliding the back door open with its customary screech, Pete sniffed cautiously. Yep… it was almost completely gone. Thank heavens for that!
Pete turned back towards the shop just in time to see Scarlett and Libby emerging from around the corner. He promptly felt like he’d been punched in the chest.
They both looked beautiful, but it was Scarlett who captured his gaze and refused to let go. She was wearing a floor-length dress in deep gold silk that reflected the dying sunlight. Her dark hair had been styled in loose waves that framed her face, with a few strands pinned up to reveal the graceful curve of her neck.
‘Wow,’ said Pete, the word escaping before he could catch it.
Scarlett’s eyes widened slightly as she took him in. ‘Wow yourself,’ she said, her voice soft but carrying in the quiet evening air.
Libby, resplendent in a midnight blue jumpsuit that made her look far older than her seventeen years, glanced between them with poorly concealed glee.
‘You two are worse than a pair of teenagers at their first school disco,’ she declared, breaking the spell. ‘Are we leaving, or are you just going to stand there gawping at each other all night?’
Pete felt his ears grow warm, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. ‘You both look beautiful.’
‘You don’t scrub up too badly yourself,’ Libby replied, giving him an appraising once-over. ‘Who did you swipe the suit from?’
Pete rolled his eyes. He should have known he’d have to drop any air of polished mystery with his little sister in tow. ‘Murray.’
‘But he’s about a foot taller than you!’ said Libby. ‘Have you been driving around hunting for a tailor all afternoon?’
Pete sighed and shook his head. She wasn’t that far from the truth, though he promptly decidednotto reveal that the bottoms of his trouser legs were currently being held up by several strategically placed strips of gaffer tape. A man had to have some secrets!
Ignoring Libby’s question completely, Pete opened the van’s front passenger door with a flourish. ‘Your carriage, ladies.’
‘How very gallant,’ Scarlett laughed.
Libby hopped up into the back, leaving the front seat for Scarlett. Pete closed the doors behind them before circling back to the driver’s side and taking a moment to compose himself before sliding in behind the wheel.
‘You arrived in the dark, didn’t you?’ he said to Scarlett as he turned the key in the ignition and the van coughed to life with its usual reluctance.
Scarlett nodded. ‘Yep, I didn’t really see much, to be honest.’
