Authors: Katie Flynn
Tags: #Traditional British, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction
One hand gripped by each boy, Joy set off fearlessly towards where she assumed the sea must be, for she could hear the waves advancing and retreating, the crash as a wave came inshore and the crunching drag as it retreated, carrying a good deal of shingle with it. They entered the water slowly, and Joy was about to shout to her twin to join them when Gillian’s voice spoke in her ear. ‘What’s all this then? I don’t grudge you Edward, but did you have to steal Keith as well? I thought a foursome meant each girl had a boy, but now I see it means one girl has two boys and the other girl has to make do with her own company!’
Joy released Edward’s hand for a second and stooped to scoop up a handful of seawater and splash it to where she imagined Gillian stood. She acted so quickly that Gillian had no chance to take evasive action and Joy realised she had scored a direct hit when she heard her sister splutter and spit. ‘Serve you right!’ she shouted, as excited and happy as any five-year-old would have been.
She grabbed Edward’s hand again, just as her bunched-up skirt slid out of her belt and a moment later was clinging, wet and clammy, to her bare legs. She would have scolded Edward, but realised the two men were talking to each other. ‘Have you got her?’ That was Keith, his voice anxious. ‘If so, I’ll give Gillian a hand; I just hope she isn’t going to blame me for ruining that pretty dress.’
‘Of course I’ve got her,’ Edward said, sounding indignant. ‘But why …’ Joy felt him twist to look over his shoulder, then felt a silent laugh travel down the length of his arm and into her left hand. It was a most peculiar sensation and needed an explanation.
‘Why are you laughing?’ she demanded, as Keith released her right hand and splashed shorewards. ‘What’s happened? Oh, how I wish I could
see
!’
But the laughter was bubbling up now, impossible to suppress. ‘Gillian tried to dodge when you chucked the water, fell backwards, and is now cursing and laughing and being hauled to her feet by her fellow, soaked to the waist,’ Edward informed her, between chuckles. ‘Oh my, someone’s in for a scolding!’
Joy was sitting on a convenient ledge of rock, the sun warm on her bare shoulders, for she was still in her bathing costume, having thoroughly enjoyed herself in the gentle waves. In the time at their disposal, her bathe had had to be a short one and she could not pretend that Edward had taught her to swim, but he had held her chin whilst she flailed around and had then suggested that instead of the breaststroke she might start off with what he called a doggy paddle. ‘Animals swim by nature, simply moving their legs as though they were running on land,’ he had explained. ‘Don’t worry, I shan’t let you go, but if you pretend you’re Dilly I dare say it will help you to get the feel of the water.’
Joy had had great fun and, as Edward soon discovered, she was completely fearless. He had commented upon the fact, making Joy giggle. ‘Why should I be afraid?’ she had countered. ‘I remember you saying that the sea was shallow for a long way out, and every now and then, when I drop my feet by accident, I can feel the sand. Do you think if I fell off a boat far out to sea I’d simply drown?’
‘Yes, well, I don’t think we’ll put it to the test,’ Edward had said firmly. ‘Are you tired yet? I think it’s time we went back, otherwise those gannets will have eaten our share of the picnic as well as their own.’
‘Oh, I’d almost forgotten the picnic,’ Joy had said as Edward had helped her to her feet and they had begun to wade shorewards. ‘Is the Imperial very grand, Edward? I know the reception hall must be huge because our voices had a sort of echo, and the lounge where we waited whilst Keith and Gillian fetched the hamper was big too. But what’s it
like?
Never having been inside such a posh place before, I can’t imagine it.’
‘It is rather grand,’ Edward had admitted. ‘Potted palms and statues of flimsily dressed ladies bearing urns on their shoulders; you know the sort of thing.’ As he spoke, he had been steering Joy up on to the dry sand and soon they had re-joined the other two.
‘Thank goodness you’ve arrived,’ Gillian had said. ‘We’re starving, aren’t we, Keith?’ She had reached up a hand to take her twin’s and pulled Joy to sit on the very ledge of rock she still occupied. ‘Do you want to get changed before we eat? I’ve already done so, but I don’t mind helping you if you’d rather eat fully dressed.’
This, however, Joy had declined to do, loving the feel of sun and breeze on her body. She had felt amazingly free and amazingly hungry, and had chattered away to her companions as they devoured all the delicious things in the hamper. When at last they had eaten their fill, Gillian had patted Joy’s hand to get her attention. ‘You spent such ages in the sea, dearest Joy, that the afternoon is half over and we’ve still not gone up the Orme or walked along the pier. The coach leaves at half past six but we’ve time to take a tram up the Orme. Only everyone says that the view is best as the sun begins to sink, so if it’s all the same to you we’ll do the pier first.’
Joy had pulled a face. ‘Would it ruin all your plans if you left me on the beach?’ she had enquired hopefully. ‘I promise not to move from this spot – it’s well above where the tide could come in, isn’t it? – and I’d love to go home with a tan, which I’m unlikely to get walking along the pier or catching a tram to the top of the Orme, because I suppose I should have to put my clothes and shoes back on.’
This time it had been Keith who answered her. ‘You’re right there; folk would think it very odd indeed if you went sightseeing in your swimsuit,’ he had said. A hand had reached out and touched her costume, making Joy jump. ‘Yes, it’s still wet. Well, if you don’t want to see the pier and the Orme … oh, hell, I’m so sorry, Joy. I keep forgetting.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ Joy had said quickly. ‘I told you, it’s nice when people forget.’ She had then turned towards Gillian, sitting beside her. ‘I know you worry about leaving me in strange places, but I’ve got my white stick, and, as I said, I shan’t move.’
‘I’ll stay with you; I came for the sea and the sand so I don’t mind missing out on the pier,’ Edward had said, and Joy had thought she could hear a little wistfulness in his voice. Accordingly, she had turned on him sharply.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Edward, stop behaving as if I were five years old and completely dependent on other people. I don’t suppose it will take the rest of the afternoon for you and the others to walk the length of the pier and back and I’ll be perfectly happy here, honest to God I will.’ She had leaned forward and fumbled with the lid of the hamper, opened it, and begun to poke the contents. ‘There’s still a packet of those delicious cakes with only one taken out, and some sandwiches …’ she had picked the packet up and sniffed it, ‘oh, ham and pickle – my favourite. I won’t guarantee the food will still be around when you get back; perhaps that will encourage you not to be too long away.’
‘Well, if you’re sure …’ Gillian had begun, and Joy had heard the uncertainty in her voice. ‘If we just go to the pier and come straight back … why, we shan’t be gone for more than twenty minutes. What can happen in twenty minutes?’
‘A lot,’ Edward had said grimly before Joy could reply. ‘But if young Joy here really wants to sunbathe, and promises not to move away from this spot … well, I dare say she’ll enjoy just being alone for a change.’
Thus it was that Joy now sat on the ledge of rock with a ham and pickle sandwich in one hand and a towel within reach of the other, lest the sunshine, magnified by salt water droplets, begin to burn, and her shoulders need to be covered.
‘Lovely, loverly day,’ Joy carolled beneath her breath as she finished off the sandwich and rummaged in the hamper for one of the little cakes. ‘If I was lucky enough to live here, I’d come down to the beach every day, and find a friend who could teach me to swim properly, not just to doggy paddle. If I lived here …’
She ate the cake, dusted her hands and then smoothed her hair back from her forehead, smiling to herself as she did so. She remembered Mr Dodman and the cap he always wore out of doors, so that when he removed it his brow was white at the top and mahogany brown further down. She did not wish to become two-tone as well as unable to see, so she slicked her fringe back from her face.
She was leaning back and enjoying the sunshine when something else occurred to her. If she left her dark glasses in place, then when she removed them she would look like a panda. Better to take them off now so that her whole face would be a beautiful golden brown, she thought hopefully. She was in the act of removing them and fumbling for her handbag, which contained her spectacle case, when a group of people surged past, talking and laughing. As their voices faded, Joy was jerked upright as if pulled by invisible strings. Someone was whistling a catchy little tune to which she could not give a name – as she had been unable to give it a name on both the previous occasions on which she had heard it. Joy jumped up, and without giving a single thought to the promises she had so eagerly made, set off in pursuit of the whistler.
But running on soft sand is never easy even for a sighted person, and it was not long before Joy stubbed her toe on what she assumed was a small rock, or a very large pebble, and gave a squeak of dismay. But even this could not stop her eager pursuit of the whistler. Her keen hearing had noted the fact that he had veered to the left, towards the sea, but no thought of possible danger so much as crossed her mind. She simply thought that hard, wet sand was a good deal easier to run on and followed doggedly in the whistler’s wake.
It was not until she felt the first little wave splash up over her feet that the dangers of her situation struck her and she stopped running abruptly. Whatever was she doing? She had scattered promises like chaff in the wind, and was now behaving as though they were indeed chaff, and meant nothing. She put a hand to her side, suddenly aware that she was breathless and had no idea of her present position, save that she was on the very edge of the sea, that her stubbed toe was throbbing and that the whistling she had followed was fading into the distance, getting fainter with every moment.
She took a couple more steps in the direction she thought the whistler had taken, then stopped again, really frightened for the first time. She had believed she was walking along the tide line, yet her last step had brought the water halfway up to her knees. Telling herself that all she needed to do was veer to the right, she turned slightly in that direction, took another step and realised that she had somehow managed to get on to a rocky part of the shore; the very part where Edward had said earlier that they might find crabs, sea anemones and little fishes.
For a moment, terror threatened to overwhelm her. If she fell and banged her head on a rock she could drown, with half the holidaymakers on the beach looking on, never dreaming that she was in trouble. Joy stood very still. Even if she regained the safety of dry sand, she could walk straight past the spot she had abandoned and be lost once more.
But simply standing still had calmed her, she realised, so she continued to stand motionless, her face turned away from the sea, and her heart gradually ceased its mad hammering and began to beat normally once more. As it did so, the perspiration which had run down her neck and breasts began to cool, and she told herself that she was in no danger from the turning tide, because Keith had said the water never came right up to the promenade save in winter, and now it was summer, the sea was calm, and the wind was negligible. I was a fool to run after the whistler, she told herself. If I move very carefully and very, very slowly, at least I should be able, when I feel dry sand beneath my feet, to sit quietly down and wait for the others to return from the pier. The beach isn’t going to get up and walk away, after all.
But right now, her main objective was to regain that beach, if possible, unhurt. Then she would simply sit down and wait. Considerably heartened by the thought, she moved one foot cautiously forward … and felt the roughness of a chunk of rock beneath her toes. Hastily, she replaced her foot in its former position, then bent over and felt around her. Big stones or small rocks … she supposed that if she simply stood where she was her friends would spot her and come to her rescue, but it would be a good deal less humiliating if she could reach the sand and sit down. She would tell Gillian that she had had a fancy to cool her feet in the briny but had ventured too far and got caught in the rocks.
She stood where she was for a moment longer, but her legs were growing tired so she descended to all fours, and nearly came to grief when her seeking hands found what must, she thought, be a rock pool and she plunged up to the elbows in water. Fighting an urge to burst into tears, she was about to try another direction when she heard someone splashing towards her and a voice said: ‘You all right, chuck? Tide’s on the turn and once the water covers them rocks you can be hurt bad, honest to God you can.’ Hands seized her beneath her armpits and helped her to her feet and her rescuer said encouragingly: ‘That’s the ticket! Now tek hold of me mauly and we’ll give them rocks a wide berth … there’s quite a big one coming up …’
Joy began to ask just where the big rock was when she found it by the simple expedient of walking into it and would have fallen again but for her helper’s quick grab. ‘Good God, gal, are you blind? It’s perishin’ well big enough!’
‘Yes, I’m blind,’ Joy said wearily. ‘I thought you’d guessed. I got amongst the rocks because I can’t see ’em … so you see I’m very grateful.’
‘You’re blind? Dear God, queen, you shouldn’t oughter be left alone on the beach! Anything could ha’ happened! Where’s your minder, then?’
‘My friends have walked out along the pier. I was supposed to stay just where I was put, so if I’d done as I promised …’ Joy said, trying not to sound offended at his reference to her ‘minder’. As she spoke she felt firm sand under her feet and turned towards her rescuer. ‘You are good! And don’t blame my pals, because it was all my own fault. Now, can you see some towels and a hamper … shoes and things as well? Only if you can take me to the little camp we made on the shore they need never find out.’