Beach Hut Surprise: Escape to Little Piddling this summer — six feel-good beach reads to make you smile, or even laugh out loud

by Libertà Books

  "But it was my plan. My idea."

  "Oh? And where is your proof? Do you have a copy of the report you gave me? No, I thought not. If you challenge me, I shall merely say I asked you to provide the documentary evidence to support my arguments." Sir Hereward walked to the door and opened it. "Now, if you have said your piece, you had best get back to the archives before your tardiness attracts attention. And besides, there are devilled kidneys for breakfast this morning and they will be growing cold. Good day to you, Spendlove."

  Thus dismissed, Rudolph left the Towers and, with leaden feet, made his way to the Town Hall. His hopes, his dreams were in tatters. The honour of raising Little Piddling to new heights would not be his. He would not be lauded for his academic prowess. The townsfolk would not claim him for their saviour. Even if he told anyone of his efforts, they would think it vain boasting.

  And Millicent would never think him other than a dull clerk. An office boy.

  Somehow, Rudolph struggled through the rest of the day. When he emerged from his basement, everyone in the Town Hall was talking about Sir Hereward's great achievement. For once, Little Piddling commanded the front page with its announcement and had stolen the march on its larger neighbour. On his way home he called into the local stationer's to purchase more pen nibs to find Mr Ottery, the owner, was already celebrating the extra business coming his way. Everyone would need more stationery, new invoices, business and calling cards, not to mention the guide books that would have to be reprinted. He would need to take on another apprentice to cope with the workload.

  When Rupert arrived at Cosmo Terrace, Mrs Spendlove was entertaining Mrs Arbuttle, who had called to discuss the new developments and Rudolph was obliged to listen once again while Sir Hereward's praises were sung.

  Excusing himself, Rudolph went for a walk. It was a fine summer's evening, but the promenade was not crowded, and he strode along, trying to clear his brain and his heart of its anguish. Everyone else appeared to be excited by the news of the change of name, yet his had been the work, the effort, the inspiration and he was not to receive any of the acclaim.

  The beach huts were in sight and even at a distance, Rassendyll Lodge, at the very centre of the row, stood out like a sore thumb between the pastel hues of its neighbours. Rudolph strode on until he reached his mother's hut and, as he gazed up at the elaborate frontage, a change came over him. It might be brash, some might consider its excessive carving, its shutters and ornamented balustrade as vulgar, but it was certainly not boring.

  He knew full well that his namesake was the noble English hero of Mr Hope's novels and any house Rassendyll might have owned would never have looked like this. The florid, overdecorated style of an Alpine chalet was more in keeping with the villain of the piece, and secretly Rudolph had always thought Rupert of Hentzau much more dashing than the hero.

  Rudolph Rassendyll had been very noble, but where had it got him? Perhaps it was time for him to change his allegiance. In future he would not model himself on the noble, self-effacing hero. No, in future he would become more like Rupert.

  He would have his revenge.

  Chapter Two

  After a night's sleep, Rudolph was still determined to follow his plan to become more like the villain of Zenda, although he decided that changing his name to Rupert would not be feasible. For one thing, Mother would want to know why. However, he could change his appearance. He began to wax his moustache, encouraging the sides to grow while he stood before the mirror and practised twirling the ends between thumb and forefinger. His hair, formerly shorn neatly around the back, now grew longer and curled daringly over his collar. When he was not working, he left off his bowler hat in favour of a soft black trilby, which he considered gave him a rakish look. It was a good start, he thought. He felt more confident, somehow, and for the first time in weeks he walked with his shoulders back and an added spring in his step.

  However, he was no nearer deciding how he was to punish Sir Hereward. Various plans came to him, only to be discarded. Revenge filled his thoughts. Even his Saturday morning bicycle rides passed in a blur. And when he accompanied his mother to church on Sunday, he quite forgot to speak to Mr and Mrs Simister or their daughter but spent the whole service with a crease in his brows, his thoughts very far from his surroundings.

  Rudolph's behaviour piqued Millicent, who had grown accustomed to being the object of his attentions. When the service was over and her parents dawdled in the graveyard, exchanging pleasantries with their friends and neighbours, she hung back, waiting for Rudolph to emerge from the church. When he did so, she stood in his way, pretending not to notice him until he was almost upon her.

  "Oh, Rudolph." She feigned a small start of surprise. "I did not see you there."

  His distracted look was so far from the fawning adoration he usually bestowed upon her that she felt the first stirrings of alarm. She gave him her sunniest smile.

  "I have not seen you all week, Rudolph. Have you been so very busy at the Town Hall?"

  "What? Oh, yes, yes. Extremely busy. I have had a lot to think about."

  His manner was offhand and she sought for something more to say.

  "But you have still found time to ride out on your bicycle—I saw you setting off yesterday morning, you know."

  "What? Oh well, yes." He waved a distracted hand. "One must keep up the exercise, you know."

  "I think it looks very exciting, Rudolph. I should very much like to be able to ride."

  For the first time, he showed a little interest. "You would? It's not that difficult, you know."

  "Not for a clever man like you, perhaps," she told him, eyelashes fluttering.

  "Oh, I don't know." He puffed out his chest, visibly pleased at her comment. He glanced past her. "Mother has turned for home with your parents. May I escort you back to Cosmo Terrace?"

  She hesitated slightly for modesty's sake, then placed her fingers delicately on his proffered sleeve.

  "My friend Lucinda Grayson has a bicycle, you know. She keeps it at Primly Court, Lady Bosomworth's residence."

  Millicent added this last grandly, although she had been there but once, a few years earlier, when old Lady Bosomworth had been persuaded by the vicar to open her grounds for a garden party in aid of the Mothers' Union. It was there she had met Mrs Grayson. Although Lucinda was a widow and several years older than Millicent, their friendship had blossomed during one idyllic summer when Lady Bosomworth had owned a beach hut and they had enjoyed sea bathing together. But that was before Lucinda began her incessant travels, and since then they had kept in touch by correspondence.

  Millicent sighed. It was inevitable, she supposed, that the great-niece of an intrepid explorer would want to have adventures of her own. Millicent wished with all her heart that she, too, might see something of the world but it seemed unlikely. Mama was desperate for her to settle down to a life of household duties and motherhood and Milly supposed she would have to do so, and soon, if she was not to become an old maid.

  She continued, "Lucinda comes to the area so rarely now that she has offered to give the bicycle to me." Millicent peeped up at him. "If only I could ride, I am sure it would be extremely beneficial to my health."

  She let the words hang and was gratified a few moments later when Rudolph responded.

  "I could teach you to ride, Millicent."

  She stopped and turned to look up at him, her hands clasped before her. "You could? Oh, that would be most kind of you, Rudolph. I will write a note to Lucinda immediately. I believe she is currently staying at Primly. If she is amenable, I could perhaps collect it from her."

  Rudolph hesitated. For a moment he had been distracted from his plan to seek vengeance, but now it came back to him. What time had he for teaching young ladies to ride a bicycle? Any day now, inspiration might strike him and he must be ready to grasp the nettle and take his revenge upon Sir Hereward for his dastardly appropriation of all Rudolph's hard work.

  However, since nothing had yet occurred
to him, what harm could it do to spend a couple of evenings with Millicent Simister? He was sure Rupert of Hentzau would not turn his back on a pretty young lady. Teaching Milly to ride would be a pleasure. She would need a great deal of help at first, of course, and he might even be obliged to hold her while she found her balance.

  That thought sent a tingle of anticipation running through him. He smiled.

  "I should be delighted to teach you, Millicent. You let me know as soon as you have a bicycle, and we will begin our lessons."

  A few days later, Rudolph was on his way home from a hard day at the archives when he saw a woman ahead of him disappearing into Jubilee Gardens. He recognised her as Mrs Lucinda Grayson and his fingers stole up to the spindly ends of his fledgling moustache. What was the beautiful widow doing, wandering alone in the gardens? Why, anything might happen to her. It was up to a gentleman to offer his escort.

  Rudolph lengthened his stride and hurried after her into the deserted gardens. The sun had disappeared and the threat of an imminent rainstorm had persuaded nannies to take their young charges home, while those who worked for a living had not yet emerged for an evening stroll, having been obliged to go home and change first. Rudolph, however, even in his work suit, saw his duty clear. He continued to follow Mrs Grayson.

  His quarry sat down on a bench and Rudolph slowed his pace, watching her. She dragged a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. By Jove, she was weeping. A damsel in distress, and clearly in need of manly support. He walked up to her and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

  "Mrs Grayson, may I be of any assistance to you?"

  She started. "Oh! Do I know you, sir? Have we been introduced?"

  Her cold tone would have unnerved the old Rudolph, but he was now more Rupert of Hentzau, and not a man to be intimated by a mere woman.

  He smiled and tipped his hat. "Alas, I have not had that pleasure, but I saw you with Lady Bosomworth, when she visited the Town Hall. Rudolph Spendlove, at your service, ma'am." He schooled his features into what he hoped was an expression of sympathy. "I pray you will forgive the presumption, but seeing you are all alone, I could not pass without stopping to enquire if I could be of any help at all to you?"

  She had wiped her cheeks and now regarded him with a little less hauteur.

  "Oh, you live in Cosmo Terrace, do you not? Millicent has mentioned you in her letters. My carriage is to meet me in a quarter of an hour to convey me to Primly. I decided to stroll in the park while I wait."

  Rudolph's chest swelled at the thought that Millicent should have mentioned him to her grand friend. He gestured to the bench and, when Mrs Grayson did not object, he sat down beside her.

  "You look unhappy, ma'am, is there anything I can do?"

  "No, no. I am merely a little sad at losing a very good friend." She touched her handkerchief to her eyes once more.

  "Good heavens, you mean your friend is…has passed on?"

  "No." She straightened and blinked, very hard. "He…he has gone away."

  Ah. A man friend, thought Rudolph. The poor lady must surely be in need of consolation.

  "Now, now, my dear, do not cry." He ventured to put his arm along the back of the bench so that it was almost around her shoulder. At the same time, he reached into his pocket for his own handkerchief. Thank heavens Mother always insisted he should have a clean one with him.

  Amazed at his own temerity, he tilted Lucinda's flower-like countenance upwards and smiled at her. "You must not spoil your pretty cheeks with tears, my dear."

  The lady recoiled immediately. "How dare you! Let me go this instant!"

  Her indignation brought Rudolph to his senses. He jumped to his feet, his thin cheeks on fire with mortification.

  "My dear Mrs Grayson, I humbly beg your pardon. Forgive me, I did not mean—"

  "Did you not, indeed?" The lady was on her feet now, shaking out her skirts and glaring at him.

  "No, no, I was merely— that is— Oh my lord, I had no intention of behaving in such an ungentlemanly way."

  "Hah!" The lady gave a brittle little laugh. "In my experience you were behaving just like a gentleman! Rogues and scoundrels, all of you, and you care not a whit about how many hearts you may break. Good day to you, sir!"

  With that she stormed off, leaving Rudolph red-faced and ashamed. Good heavens, what on earth had come over him? He was turning into more of a cad than even he had thought. He turned and slowly made his way back to Cosmo Terrace. It was becoming clear to him that it was one thing to admire the cunning and ruthlessness of Rupert of Hentzau, but it was quite another to emulate the man when it meant ignoring all the tenets that had been drummed into him since childhood.

  He stopped as another horrid thought accosted him and his blood suddenly ran cold. What if Lucinda told Millicent of his attempted seduction? It was one thing not to be boring, quite another to be considered a Lothario. Alas, there was nothing he could do about that now. He walked the last few yards to his house with his shoulders slumped.

  He had promised to give Millicent a bicycle-riding lesson once she was in possession of a machine and it was quite clear now that she had a bicycle, but would she advise him of the fact, as she had promised? He glanced at the Simisters' house as he turned onto the little path leading to his own front door. Well, if he did not hear from her, he would know the worst.

  By Friday morning, Rudolph was quite prepared to believe that Lucinda had told Millicent of their encounter and that he had lost her forever. The day dragged. Even the discovery of a hitherto undocumented report on the failings of the 1899 sewage outfall pipe failed to rouse him from his lethargy and, when he saw Edward Simister waiting for him as he left the building that evening, he almost turned tail and scurried back inside. Too late. Mr Simister had seen him.

  "Ah, Spendlove, there you are. I was waiting for you. Milly gave me a message for you, my boy."

  "Sh-she did?" Rudolph braced himself for a tirade.

  "Yes, she told me to ask if you were free this evening, at eight o'clock."

  "Sh-she did?" he said again.

  "Aye, she did. For a bicycle lesson. Only you are not to be wearing that scandalous racing suit of yours. Why, you might as well be naked, sir."

  "No, no, of course not. I have a cycling suit. Knickerbockers and woollen hose, very respectable," Rudolph said, quick to reassure him. He added eagerly, "Not that I shall need to wear it whilst I am teaching Miss Simister how to ride. We could meet on Saturday morning, if that would suit better, sir."

  "Millicent tells me you have your bicycle club meeting then and we would not wish to disrupt that. No, no, this evening will suit. Eight o'clock, Millicent said."

  "Excellent, sir. Thank you."

  "But only for an hour, mind you. I'll not have you keeping my girl out after dark."

  "No, of course not, sir. I wouldn't dream of it." Rudolph knew that was not quite true. He dreamed quite often of strolling in the moonlight with Millicent. Even stealing a kiss…

  "Well, Spendlove, are you free?"

  "Y-yes, I can be."

  "Splendid. Shall we walk home together?"

  In silence Rudolph fell into step beside Edward Simister, feeling more than a little weak at the knees. It would appear that Lucinda Grayson had not told Millicent that he was a debauched rogue. Thinking back, she had told him he had behaved like all other gentlemen. And a beautiful woman such as Lucinda Grayson must know any number of gentlemen, so it must be true.

  "Mighty good of you to give up your time for her, my boy," remarked Mr Simister. "Good little thing, Millicent, and if she wants a hobby, she could do worse than the bicycle. She has an excess of energy, you see. I was afraid for a while she might want to join these dashed females campaigning for votes for women." He was silent, shaking his head at the thought, then he turned to smile at Rudolph. "So, my boy, anything you can do to give her thoughts another turn would be very welcome."

  Rudolph arrived at the Simisters' house on the dot of eight o'cloc
k and by ten past the hour, he was pushing her bicycle towards Jubilee Gardens with Millicent walking beside him. She had been adamant that she did not wish to take her first lessons in view of her friends and family in Cosmo Terrace, so Rudolph had suggested the wide, flat paths around the gardens.

  An hour later and Millicent was riding around the paths with Rudolph running alongside. True, she was a little wobbly and she needed Rudolph to steady her when she came to a stop, but she achieved a complete circuit of the gardens and Rudolph declared that the first lesson had been a success. He suggested they might meet the following Tuesday for another lesson and Millicent agreed with flattering eagerness.

  "Would you like to ride somewhere different next time?" he asked her, as they walked back to Cosmo Terrace, wheeling the bicycle between them.

  "Oh yes, if you think I might," she replied eagerly.

  "Perhaps we could try the promenade." He added, when she hesitated, "It is usually pretty quiet at this time of an evening and there is plenty of space to avoid pedestrians."

  "Then yes, if you think I will not be a danger to anyone." They had reached Millicent's gate and she stopped, a faint blush painting her cheeks. "I cannot thank you enough, Rudolph. I enjoyed that immensely."

  "So, too, did I," He opened the gate for her and she wheeled the bicycle through. "Until next Tuesday, then."

  "Until Tuesday," she called, adding with a little laugh, "if it doesn't rain."

  With a cheery wave Rudolph made his way to his own front door. Rain? At that moment he thought this summer might be one of eternal sunshine.

  The bicycle lessons fell into a twice-weekly routine and gave Rudolph some much needed relief from his fruitless attempts to devise some means of revenge upon Sir Hereward. Plans for the new town name were steaming ahead and at the Town Hall there was no escaping them. It seemed to Rudolph that everyone had a part to play, except himself, and that only rubbed salt into his still open wound.

  By the end of June, Millicent was sufficiently practised for Rudolph to suggest that, since the racing club was having its summer break, they might take a Saturday morning ride onto the headland. The day dawned bright and sunny, and Millicent looked particularly fetching in her new cycling suit with its fitted jacket and knickerbockers. She wore a matching hat decorated with a blue ribbon, the ends fluttering like pennants as she rode along.