‘Hi,’ I say and I sound slightly breathless after my walk, mixed with a little nerves.
Ned pulls up a chair next to him. ‘Glad you could make it,’ he says. ‘Didn’t think you would!’
‘I was in two minds,’ I admit.
‘New jacket?’
‘Marilyn’s choice,’ I say, wrinkling my nose.
‘It looks great.’ Ned gives it an approving look. ‘The colour suits you.’
Another one she’s bribed to give me a compliment.
‘I guess your clothes were ruined after our impromptu dip?’ Ida shoots him a questioning glare. ‘I was showing Jodie how to skim stones when the sea had other ideas,’ he explains. ‘We both took a serious dunking.’
His friend doesn’t look mollified and I see again that she’s quite possessive of Ned. Well, she has nothing to worry about from me. ‘It was fun, if a little more wet than I’d anticipated.’
‘I can only apologise again,’ he says, but there’s laughter in his voice.
‘I survived,’ I say. ‘Not sure I can say the same for my coat.’
Ned grimaces.
‘Before I sit down, can I get anyone a drink?’ I ask.
Without hesitation, Ida holds up her glass. ‘Red wine, thanks. Large.’
‘Anyone else?’ The other members of the band shake their heads.
‘I’m good,’ Ned says and shows me that he already has a bottle of beer. ‘But let me go to the bar. After all, I owe you. One of the few perks is that we get free drinks in lieu of wages and we try to make sure we get well-paid. I’ll introduce you to everyone when I get back.’ As he stands, he steers me to his chair and I take it, gratefully. There’s quite a crowd in and seats seem to be at a premium.
It’s not long before Ned comes back. He hands Ida her drink, then sits back down next to me and passes me the other glass. I take a good swig of the wine and it tastes like nectar on my tongue. I let out an appreciative sigh.
‘Good?’ Neds asks. ‘I got something a bit nicer than house plonk.’
‘I haven’t had a glass of wine for a long time. I’d forgotten how much I liked it.’
He has a cheeky twinkle in his eye when he says, ‘Rehab?’
I shake my head. ‘Nothing like that.’
‘Let me do the honours, although you’ll never remember them.’ He runs through their names of the other band members and their wives or girlfriends and I try my best to commit them to memory – but Ned’s right, I pretty much forget them instantly. They all nod or say hello in welcome.
‘What kind of music do you play?’
‘Mostly covers,’ Ned says. ‘Keeps the punters happy. Every now and again the budding songwriters among us chuck in a song or two. We try our best, but they’re never as popular. People prefer George Ezra and Sam Smith to the Beach Bums,’ he jokes.
‘The Beach Bums?’ That makes me giggle.
‘Hey. Not my choice. I’m one of the new boys. I’ve only been with them for five years. Blame Tim for the cheesy name.’
‘Time we got started, lads?’ That’s Jack. I think.
Everyone nods their agreement and Ned says, ‘Work calls.’
They take their drinks onto the stage and set up. Ned plays bass guitar and that shouldn’t surprise me as all bass players seem to be easy-going souls. Once they’ve done with some necessary man-faffing, they play some of the recent chart hits – not the dancy stuff, but mellow tunes. I’m halfway down my glass and the wine is taking the edge off my tension. Not that I want to get up and dance on the table, but it certainly seems to be untangling some knots that I didn’t know I had. Ned is a brilliant bassist – another talent. His fingers pluck and slide over the strings with a casual expertise. The general hubbub in the bar quietens which is unusual as these days the aim seems to be to talk over the band.
Ida catches me looking at him. ‘He’s good, no?’
‘Great,’ I agree.
‘He could have been anything,’ she says. ‘If he wasn’t so flipping laid-back.’
‘He seems very happy with his life,’ I note. Then, perhaps emboldened by the wine, I decide to stick my neck out a bit. ‘You both seem to get along so well.’ They look good together, too. Ida and Ned would make very pretty babies. What’s Ida? Thirty-five, probably? Lucky cow. She’s probably got another five years to have children without expensive medical intervention. That’s one of the first things that I usually think about other women. How long have they got to start a family? If they want kids, why don’t they get started now while they can? I’d do things very differently if I had my time again. But who am I to give anyone advice? ‘I would have thought you were the perfect match. Why haven’t you got together?’
Ida narrows her gaze. ‘We have. On and off over the years.’
‘Oh.’ I admit that surprises me.
‘I’m his default setting. When there’s no one else around, he turns to Good Old Ida.’
She says it as a joke, but I can hear the hurt behind it. I’m an expert in that.
‘One thing Ned doesn’t like is commitment,’ she continues quite crisply. ‘Variety is very much the spice of Ned’s life. He likes to spread his love around and come the summer season, there’s just too much choice for him.’
I don’t know him very well, but he doesn’t strike me as a player. But then, you might have gathered that I have pretty poor judgement when it comes to the character of men. I thought my husband was strong, loyal, faithful. Couldn’t have been more wrong.
‘He’s a heartbreaker,’ Ida says. ‘You’d do well to remember that.’
‘You have no worries on that front. The last thing on earth that I’m interested in is hooking up with a man. I’m finished with relationships.’
‘You’ve been burned?’
‘Oh, yes.’ The wine has definitely loosened my tongue.
‘Is that why you’ve come over here?’
She looks at me, expectantly, waiting for more juicy details, but Ida doesn’t need to know anything else. No one does. ‘It’s a long story,’ I say and turn my attention back to the band.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When they’ve played for half an hour or so, the band take a break. While the rest of them rush to the bar, Ned comes to join us again. I make sure that I move seats so that he’s next to Ida rather than me.
‘That was great,’ I say to him.
‘I enjoy it.’ Ned takes a swig of his beer. ‘I’ve played since I was a teenager.’
‘Only because you thought that being a musician would get you more girls,’ Ida quips.
Ned laughs. ‘It kind of worked. For a while.’
Ida tuts at him.
‘If you’re going to pick on me, I’ll go to the bar,’ Ned says to her. Then to me, ‘Another wine?’
‘Yes, please.’ I probably shouldn’t. It would be wise to pace myself after being so teetotal for so long, but it tastes so good and I’m feeling more relaxed than I have in a good while.
‘Ida?’
‘I never say no.’
‘So you’re going to sing with us in the second set?’ he asks.
‘Damn,’ she says. ‘I walked into that one. Give me a break, Ned. You know that I haven’t rehearsed with you guys for ages.’
‘It’s the same old thing,’ Ned points out. ‘You’ll ace it. You always do.’
‘I’ll think about it.’ Ida frowns.
‘You’ve got about fifteen minutes. Just do a couple of numbers with us. The lads will love it. What about “Beyond the Sea” and, maybe, “Love is Easy” for starters?’
Ida, I think, feigns reluctance.
‘“Time after Time”?’ he suggests. ‘You know you love a bit of Cindy Lauper.’
‘It always makes me cry,’ Ida says.
‘I’ll go and get some drinks while you decide what you want to do.’ Ned moves towards the bar.
I turn to Ida. ‘I didn’t know that you’re a singer.’
‘Not so much these days,’ she tells me. ‘A few y
ears ago, I used to be a member of the band. We played weddings, parties, pubs all over the island. Then Ned and I went through a “difficult” phase and I couldn’t do it. It was hard to watch him go home with someone different every night after the gigs.’ She waits for my reaction, but I don’t give one. ‘Now my singing is very much confined to the shower. Though, once in a while, he manages to persuade me out of retirement.’
‘This evening?’
She shrugs. ‘I don’t know. I usually like a bit more time to prepare. I’m more than rusty.’
‘I’d love to hear you. I’m always in awe of people who can play instruments or sing. I’d love to be musical but I can’t string three notes together.’
I don’t know if my words have any influence on her but, after the interval, Ida takes to the stage with the band. She makes a show of being pulled towards the microphone and the partisan crowd cheer. Ida’s clearly popular here. She sings the songs that Ned suggested and, I’m no expert, but it sounds to me as if she has a really beautiful voice. The crowd in the pub clap and whistle so loudly that Ida is persuaded to sing two more songs. It’s a shame that she’s not a regular feature with them as I’d pay good money to hear her sing.
She comes off the stage, flush-faced and slightly hyper. I think, despite her initial reluctance, that she enjoyed it too. While the band play, I buy us more wine and we clink our glasses together.
‘To you,’ I propose. ‘To more gigs with the Beach Bums.’
Ida laughs at that and says, ‘I don’t know if they’d have me back.’ But I feel that she softens towards me, a little.
Too soon, the evening ends. The landlord calls last orders and the guys play their final song. I fuss with getting my jacket on with slightly unhelpful fingers as the band pack up their gear.
As I’m about to take my leave, Ned jumps down from the stage. ‘If you wait for a few minutes, we can walk back together, Jodie. It’s dark on the way home, you shouldn’t go alone.’
‘OK.’ I admit that I hadn’t been looking forward to heading off by myself as, much to my surprise, I feel a little bit wobbly on my legs, but I didn’t know if Ned would be going home with Ida.
So, Ned packs up his bass, and kisses Ida on the cheek while I hang back and wait for him. I see her eyes flick anxiously at each of us and I know that Ida is still very much in love with him. Equally, I’m sure that it isn’t reciprocated.
‘Straight home, you two,’ she says and there’s an underlying tartness in her words.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Ned says.
I don’t like to leave Ida there looking so forlorn, but I don’t think this is my business either. While I’m wrangling with an offer to walk Ida home too, Ned takes my arm and steers me through the remaining stragglers. Outside the pub the fresh air hits me and I suddenly feel a lot more drunk than I did when I was sitting down in the warmth. The pretty fairy lights swim before my eyes.
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘That wine has hit me hard.’
‘I was going to walk down the road,’ Ned says, ‘But we could take the short cut across the beach. It’s a lot quicker. You’re not wearing heels?’
‘No.’ I show him my appropriate footwear, but even the act of lifting one leg is a bit tricky and I topple over, which causes me fits of giggles.
‘That’s never a good sign,’ Ned laughs as he catches me. ‘I can phone a taxi. We’ll be home in a minute.’
‘The beach in the moonlight sounds wonderful.’ I’m compos mentis enough to note that it’s a full moon and that the sky is beautifully lit. Silver-tipped clouds drift across its shining face.
‘I should remind you that this isn’t Antigua. It’ll be chilly down there.’
‘I’m game, if you are.’ I sound bold, adventurous. ‘Besides, the fresh air might help to clear my head – unaccustomed as I am to strong drink.’
‘Come on, then.’ Together we head across the terrace of the pub and down the steps to the beach, Ned making sure that I find each step with feet that want to go off in different directions.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My head is definitely woozy while my body is delightfully numb. ‘I shouldn’t have had that last glass.’ Maybe even the one before the last one was a bad idea.
‘You looked to be having a good evening.’
‘I enjoyed it a lot more than I expected.’ Then an emotion catches in my throat. ‘I’ve got out of the habit of socialising.’
‘We’ll have to see what we can do about that. Ida seems to like you. That’s never a given. She seems to get on better with blokes rather than women.’
‘She’s feisty,’ I say. ‘Fierce. I admire her.’
At the bottom of the steps I hit the sand and, instantly, walking becomes a lot more difficult in my inebriated state. I, of course, find this hilarious.
Ned is on hand to steady me as I wobble again. ‘And this seemed like such a good idea,’ he says, which makes me giggly all over again.
‘It’s a long time since I’ve been on a beach at night.’
‘It’s better in the height of summer,’ Ned says. ‘With a cold beer and an open fire.’
‘It must be wonderful. You never know, I might still be here in the summer.’ I think I shay shummer. Someone’s slurring their words, anyway. Then I wonder if I will still be here then. I might never go home again. This could be my new home. I’ve only been here a short while yet I think it’s been very ther . . . thera . . . therapertic – good for me.
Ned hangs onto me as we start to cross the wet sand, pulling me close. It feels unnervingly good to have his arms around me, holding me tight. No one has held me like this for a long time and I know now that I have very much needed it. I lean into him and feel the warmth of his body against mine. We walk a few steps before I have an overwhelming urge to lie down, even though Ned is doing his level best to hold me up.
Perhaps he senses my reticence for walking as he says, ‘You’ve ruined one coat already today. You’re not going in the sea fully clothed again on my watch.’
‘I’m more tired than I thought,’ I admit.
‘Is that what we’re calling it now,’ he laughs. ‘“Tired?”’
He relaxes his grip on me and, without meaning to, I sink to my knees. The wet sand is cold against the knees of my jeans and I can feel the damp seeping through. ‘I’d very much like to build a sandcastle,’ I tell him from all fours. ‘I haven’t done that for such a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ he queries. ‘Wouldn’t you rather me take you to the nice warm houseboat that’s waiting for you?’
‘Sandcastle,’ I insist. ‘One fit for a fairy princess.’
With a bemused shake of his head, he drops down next to me. ‘As it happens, I am the king of sandcastles,’ he boasts. ‘You came to the right guy. Sandcastles for fairy princesses are my speciality.’
‘Really?’ I’m quite impressed by that and briefly wonder how Ned became such an expert.
‘OK. Get digging sandcastle, slave,’ he instructs, ‘otherwise we’ll still be here at dawn.’
‘I quite like the idea of that.’ Wouldn’t it be better than lying awake all night, tossing and turning? ‘We have nothing to dig with. We should have brought our glasses from the pub.’
‘Wait there. Don’t move.’ He points at me in a very forceful manner.
‘I wouldn’t dream of moving.’ I’m not entirely sure that I can.
Ned sprints back towards the pub and returns a minute later with two large beer glasses. ‘They hadn’t cleared up smokers’ corner. Whatever you do, I don’t want you patting these too hard. A trip to A & E isn’t on my wish list.’
‘Don’t pat too hard,’ I repeat.
‘Better still. You fill them with sand. I’ll do the patting.’
‘No patting for me,’ I concur.
So while Neds makes a pile of sand in front of him, I start scooping the soft, damp sand into the beer glasses, enjoying the grittiness in my fingers. I pass them to Ned who does his most expert patting and tips
the sand out onto the beach in a perfect flat-topped cone. Frankly, I am a sand-scooping machine and Ned is a patting genius and so we soon have a perfect circle of sandcastles round the main mound of sand. I lean back to admire our handiwork. ‘This is looking wonderful.’
‘A des res for any discerning princess,’ he agrees. ‘Now the tricky bit.’
I wait to be told what that is with bated breath.
‘It’s time to build them up around the mound.’ I pass him the next beer glass and, with his free hand, he levels a little shelf in the side before up-ending his beer glass. I gasp with awe as the sand cone slides out of the glass and takes its place in the emerging castle.
‘Fabulous,’ I breathe.
Ned grins at me in the darkness.
Clapping my hands, I says, ‘This is too good. Hurry, hurry.’ I fill more glasses and, while I’m waiting for Ned to pass them back to me, I start to shape the big hole I’ve created into a moat. What’s a fairytale castle without a moat? I can feel the wind, chill on my face, but I’m not cold. It must be the wine as there’s definitely a warm glow inside me.
‘Last one,’ Ned says. ‘Want to do it?’
I look up and, in front of me, there’s a magnificent sand structure. A circle of little sandcastles stand to attention around the central mound and more sandcastles wind their way up its side in a spiral until they reach the pinnacle. The one remaining sandcastle is ready to go on top.
‘You do it,’ I tell him, ‘I don’t want to spoil it.’ So Ned tips out the sand, gently but purposefully.
The sand cone sits proudly on top. Ned studies it, carefully. ‘Just missing one thing. We didn’t bring a flag and it definitely deserves a flag.’
‘It’s brilliant.’ I’m truly amazed. ‘Did we really build that?’ I have no idea how long we’ve been out here, but I’ve enjoyed every minute. ‘I can tell that you’ve had practice.’
Sunny Days and Sea Breezes Page 9