Page 41 of The Big Dip in Crumbleton
‘Wait… I’m confused,’ said Pete, shaking his head and making his antennae wobble. ‘You want me to teach you to surf?’
‘Uh huh.’
‘And you’re going to stay in Crumbleton Sands for longer.’
‘Yep.’
‘In my hut?’
‘Yes.’
‘And dad’s cool with that?’
‘Correct.’
‘But… where am I going to sleep?’
Scarlett smirked. ‘Well… there’s your van, of course, but I’ve had another idea.’
‘Oh yeah?’ said Pete, his voice suddenly sounding husky.
‘I thought we could do some research for your dad,’ she said with a grin.
‘My… dad?’ Pete was looking confused again.
‘Yeah,’ said Scarlett. ‘He’s been pretty keen for my feedback about the shepherd’s hut, so I was thinking, we could test out how it works as a romantic getaway… for… you know… a couple.’
She might have been practising the line since the previous night, but Scarlett still didn’t manage to pull it off without turning puce.
At least now her face matched her costume!
‘What do you think?’ she said, her eyes on Pete.
Pete nodded, his antenna waggling. ‘Sounds like the kind of research I am fully in support of!’
Scarlett let out a squeal of joy that was promptly echoed by the sound of a klaxon, signalling that the swim was about to begin. All around them, people began moving towards the water’s edge, adjusting costumes, doing last-minute stretches, and generally psyching themselves up for the plunge.
‘Here we go again,’ said Pete, reaching out and squeezing Scarlett’s claw as they surged down the beach with the rest of the crowd.
The fancy dress swim was even more chaotic than the previous day’s dip. Costumes that had looked impressive on dry land quickly proved impractical in the water – the jellyfish headpiece was abandoned within seconds, and at least one mermaid tail floated away like an aquatic tumbleweed.
Scarlett quickly found that keeping her lobster costume in place while swimming was a challenge that required constant adjustment and no small amount of luck.
‘This is ridiculous!’ she spluttered as a wave caught her full in the face, dislodging her antennae. ‘How is anyone supposed to swim in these things?’
‘That’s half the fun,’ Pete laughed, reaching out to pop them back on her head and then steading her as she wobbled in the shifting sand. ‘Look at Brian – his captain’s hat’s on its way to France.’
Scarlett turned to look, and sure enough, Brian’s nautical headgear was making a bid for freedom on the current, despite his valiant attempts to swim after it.
‘I think I prefer regular swimming,’ she admitted, shivering slightly as another wave broke around them.
‘Probably wise,’ said Pete. ‘Though you’ve got to admit, this’ll make for some good photos.’ He nodded towards the shore, and Scarlett groaned when she spotted several people with cameras capturing the spectacle.
‘Brilliant. Crumbleton Sands will forever remember me as a half-drowned lobster.’
‘Could be worse,’ said Pete. ‘You could be the bloke whose beach ball costume has just deflated. He looks like a sad balloon animal.’
Scarlett followed his gaze, then burst out laughing. She was suddenly filled with bright, unguarded joy as everything she’d just said to Pete on the beach started to sink in.
