Page 8 of The Big Dip in Crumbleton
She was wrapped in what looked like a man’s cardigan, far too big for her slender frame, the sleeves rolled up several times to free her hands. Her bare legs disappeared into a pair of fluffy pink slipper-socks that were covered in a fine coat of sand.
Pete’s brain promptly short-circuited. He’d been prepared for a slightly grumpy elderly lady, not… whoever this was.
He stared, suddenly aware that he probably looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. His hair was a salt-crusted mess, and his t-shirt had a questionable stain near the hem.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Sorry to disturb you so late. Are you Pete?’
Pete nodded, still struggling to find his voice. His mouth felt dry, his tongue strangely unwilling to cooperate. ‘That’s me,’ he managed at last, his words coming out rougher than he’d intended. He cleared his throat. ‘Problem?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded, twisting her hands in the too-long sleeves of her cardigan. ‘I was trying to have a shower, but the water’s ice-cold. The note said you’d be able to help? I know it’s really late, but Brian dropped me off after all the others, and… well… sorry…’
She trailed off, fidgeting from foot to foot, looking like she wished the sands would part so that the dunes could swallow her whole and put her out of her misery.
‘It’s no problem,’ said Pete, finally getting his brain back in gear and taking pity on her. Something about her made him think of a flighty woodland animal, with her wide eyes and the fact that she looked like she’d bolt at any given moment. ‘Hot water? I can fix that.’
He stepped out of the van, closing the door behind him with another screech followed by a dull thud.
‘I’m Scarlett, by the way,’ said the woman.
‘Pete,’ he replied. ‘But you already know that. Sorry.’
He shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling awkward and too large next to her petite frame as they made their way onto the moonlit boardwalk.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ she said with a shy smile. ‘You’re basically my knight in shining armour right now.’
‘Don’t know about that,’ muttered Pete, wishing he’d taken the time to change his tee-shirt.
‘Well… it’s nice to meet you, anyway,’ said Scarlett. ‘I hope I’m not putting you out.’
‘Not at all,’ Pete lied, feeling even more guilty for his prolonged sulk.
‘And… did you light the fire for me?’ she said.
‘Uh huh.’
‘Well, it was a really nice touch,’ she said. ‘Thank you. I was so cold and stiff after the minibus, and the hut’s so cosy and… well…’
Scarlet trailed off as they reached the hut, and Pete felt a strange pang of something as he watched her run lightly up the steps onto the porch. It wasn’t jealousy… more like a sense ofrightness…and pride that he’d made this random stranger’s life a little bit more comfortable.
He frowned.What on earth was with him today?!
‘Come on in!’ said Scarlett, pushing the door open.
Pete nodded and followed her inside. It was odd to be invited into his own home… and even odder seeing someone else in his space, even if that someone was temporarily rendering him speechless.
The fire he’d set earlier crackled merrily inside the woodburner, filling the small space with warmth and the comforting scent of burning driftwood. The place looked different somehow, with Scarlett’s things scattered around – a book on the tiny fold-down table, a jacket draped over the back of the chair.
‘This place is gorgeous,’ said Scarlett, gesturing around the hut. ‘I’m so lucky – it was such a brilliant surprise. I didn’t really know what to expect, but this is…’ she trailed off, staring around with a look of wonder on her face. ‘It must be amazing to live here.’
‘It is,’ said Pete before he remembered he wasn’t meant to admit that this was his home because his mum thought it might make their guest feel awkward.
Scarlett raised her eyebrows, and Pete cleared his throat, wondering how best to backtrack.
‘I mean, yes, it’s… nice.’ The words felt woefully inadequate. It was only now that there was someone else staying here that he realised what the hut meant to him – a haven, a sanctuary, a place that had started to feel like his first real home in years.
He moved to the tiny shower room, avoiding her curious gaze. ‘Let’s see about this water, shall we?’
Two minutes later, he had steam billowing out of the tiny cubicle and fogging the small mirror above the sink.
