Footprints in the Sand (Back-2-Back, Book 1)

by Chloe Rayban

  ‘Not that sort of thing. And it’s too late now.’

  ‘It can’t be that bad?’

  ‘No, it’s OK.’ She scrabbled for something in her bag, then brought out a tissue and blew her nose.

  ‘Lucy? What is it?’

  I could see now that her eyes were brimming with tears. She bit her lip and said: ‘It’s just that my dad’s getting married today, that’s all.’

  ‘Your dad? Didn’t you want to be there?’

  She shook her head and looked away. I didn’t know quite what to do or say. I’m no good with girls who cry. I mean, I’m absolutely hopeless. I don’t understand all this relationship stuff. My parents have always been happily married. She must have been feeling awful.

  ‘You don’t like his new wife?’ I prompted.

  She shook her head again, obviously trying to get a grip on herself.

  ‘Not madly, but it’s not that. It’s just that I forgot. And now Mum’s gone off all on her own to that site on that other island. I should’ve spent the day with her. Today of all days.’

  ‘Maybe we could catch up with her and join her?’

  ‘Thanks but… there’s only the one boat out in the morning. We’ve missed it.’

  ‘Oh.’ I tried to sound disappointed.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to spoil your day off. Let’s talk about something else.’

  ‘If you’re sure you’re OK.’

  ‘I’m fine. Really.’

  ‘OK – first things first. Where are we going to stop off?’

  ‘How about the next beach?’

  (I had in mind somewhere rather more secluded.)

  ‘Oh you’d hate it, it’s really crowded.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind. I could do with a bit of life. I’ve hardly seen anyone this holiday.’

  ‘The people there are real posers…’

  ‘Great! That’ll give us something to watch!’

  The resort was crowded with weekend visitors. We had to walk the entire length of the beach to find a couple of vacant loungers. But Lucy didn’t seem to mind. She stretched out on one with a sigh of contentment.

  ‘Mmm – this is heaven!’

  I stretched out on the next lounger. We lay in silence for ten minutes or so.

  ‘Do you want me to oil your back or anything?’ I asked after a while.

  ‘No, it’s OK. Mum insisted I put sunscreen on from top to toe before I left – to be absolutely sure I didn’t miss a centimetre. I’ll do yours if you like, though.’

  ‘Oh thanks.’ (I had a really good protective tan. Hadn’t used sun lotion since I ran out a week ago – but if the girl was willing…)

  Minutes of sheer bliss followed as I felt her nice soft hands running up and down my back – magic!

  ‘Right – you’re done.’

  ‘I think maybe you missed a bit – up round my neck and shoulders.’

  ‘No I didn’t.’

  ‘Pity.’

  She lay down on her back with a little smile of satisfaction on her face and closed her eyes.

  I lay back and closed mine, too. At this rate I wasn’t going to get as far as holding hands with her. Now for some serious tactical planning.

  A strident female voice broke in through my train of thought.

  ‘You never think of what I want, do you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ The male voice was huffy, defensive.

  ‘That’s just typical of you, answering with a question. Always throwing it back at me.’

  ‘Always! What do you mean, always…?’

  ‘Always! What d’you think always means…?’

  There was one hell of a domestic going on next door to us. I raised myself on one elbow.

  It was Blondie – the girl staying below the taverna. She was pouting with this really spoilt look on her face and Lover Boy wasn’t looking cool at all. Close up, he wasn’t even that good-looking. And she was really tarty, wearing full make-up on the beach. You could see each eyelash caked with mascara. What a let down!

  I lay back and became a reluctant eavesdropper on their row. They weren’t arguing about anything important, they were just laying into each other – the way people argue just for the hell of it, just to make the other person’s life a misery. So much for their great romance. It was pretty depressing listening to them, really. I stared out to sea but somehow their row had put a damper on the day.

  I looked over at Lucy. She was frowning – she obviously couldn’t help overhearing them either.

  I leaned over and whispered: ‘Maybe we should make a move – go somewhere a bit quieter.’

  She nodded and reached for her clothes.

  ‘Good idea, let’s move on before we have to pay for the loungers.’

  Dodging the gladiators with their obsessive sports equipment, we made our way back to the bus stop.

  ‘So where to now?’

  She shrugged. ‘I only know one beach apart from Paradiso. The one where Mum and I stayed when we moved on.’

  ‘What’s it like?’

  ‘Well, it’s not up to much, but it is quiet.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  ‘There’s a taverna where we can get some lunch.’

  ‘Sounds even better.’

  By the time we got to Lucy’s beach we were both ravenous, so we ended up having lunch at this modern taverna. Not much of a place but the food was good, and it was cheap too.

  When we’d finished she stretched that lovely body of hers and smiled. ‘I made a real pig of myself. I feel really full and sleepy now.’

  Sleepy? Some illicit thoughts about the rooms in the taverna crept in at that point, but I promise I put them right out of my mind.

  ‘Maybe we should go to the beach and find some shade?’ I suggested. ‘These old olive trees don’t give much shelter.’

  She nodded. ‘Good idea.’

  A narrow little path between some reeds led down to the beach. We were forced to walk in single file, which was nice because I could enjoy watching the way she moved on those long legs of hers. Lovely, lovely Lucy.

  She turned at one point and caught me watching.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nothing. Keep going.’

  When we arrived at the beach we found there wasn’t much shade there, either. I skimmed a couple of stones and handed Lucy a nice flat blue-ish one, perfect for skimming. But she didn’t seem particularly interested in ducks-and-drakes.

  ‘I thought there were some trees here,’ she said. ‘Maybe we ought to go back to the olive grove.’

  ‘What about those rocks over there?’ I said, pointing to the far end of the beach. ‘They must give some shade.’

  ‘Maybe – it’s worth a try.’

  There was just the right amount of shade beside the rocks – just enough for two beach towels laid out side by side. And by my reckoning, as the sun moved round, the area of shade would get quite a bit smaller.

  Lucy spread her towel out and I spread mine beside hers.

  ‘Just enough room,’ I said casually.

  ‘Good,’ she said and stretched herself out.

  I lay down beside her and pretended to try to sleep. Sleep! Nothing could’ve been further from my mind. And I could tell by the occasional glance I sneaked at her that Lucy wasn’t particularly sleepy, either. I slid an arm up over my head and brought it casually round to rest on her towel.

  She opened her eyes and smiled. (Encouragement!)

  I moved a little closer. She still didn’t object, so I moved a lot closer. And then I moved closer still.

  I was just getting to the really good bit of getting to know her, and I’ll tell you, Lucy was a very kissable girl. And she seemed to be enjoying it. In fact, everything was going absolutely brilliantly. I even started, very gradually to make headway on to her towel.

  ‘Not enough shade?’ she asked, which I took to be a real come-on.

  ‘Can’t be too careful,’ I cast a glance up in the direction of the sun. ‘Can’t be pas
t three yet.’

  With that, all of a sudden, Lucy sat up. Oh this wasn’t fair! I hadn’t got anywhere near the getting-out-of-hand bit yet.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘We can’t.’

  ‘Yes we can.’

  ‘No, we mustn’t.’

  ‘Mustn’t we? Why?’

  ‘Umm, because… Umm… I don’t know you well enough.’

  ‘I was just trying to put that right.’

  ‘Yes, but… I mean, I don’t think we should, umm…’

  (Girls really find this hard to articulate for some reason.) Like an idiot I helped her out. ‘Too fast and too soon?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘But Lucy—’

  ‘No buts.’

  She was getting to her feet and rolling her towel. OK, OK – I knew I’d blown it.

  ‘I really like you and all that, but…’ she was saying.

  ‘You said no buts…’

  ‘I know, but…’ She seemed really upset for some reason.

  I stood up and dutifully rolled my towel.

  ‘It’s not you – it’s just that it’s three o’clock.’

  ‘Three o’clock?’

  Her lower lip wobbled. ‘I know it’s stupid but that’s when Dad’s getting married. I saw it on the invitation. And then when you said three – I thought of Dad and Mum and how they came to Greece and…’

  ‘Come here,’ I said.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. It’s OK,’ I said, catching her round the waist. ‘Lucy – look at me.’

  She didn’t, so I put my arms around her and hugged her close. Not a sexy hug, just a big reassuring hug.

  ‘Better?’

  ‘Mmm… thanks, Ben.’

  I didn’t try anything more for the rest of the afternoon. We just talked and got to know each other a lot better. Not exactly the way I’d planned but… Still, there would be other times.

  Lucy was anxious to get back and wait for her mother, which I guess was understandable in the circumstances. We arrived back at the taverna early, shortly after four.

  ‘I’ve spoiled your day out. I know I have,’ she said.

  ‘No you haven’t.’

  ‘Yes I have.’

  ‘No, really, honestly – you haven’t.’

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’

  I stared out to sea. It was a brilliantly clear day and there was a perfect twenty knot cross-shore wind.

  That’s what I needed. A really good sail.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I went much further out than I should have done. Even further out than the guys from the next beach. I was a lot more disappointed by the way the afternoon had turned out than I had let on to Lucy. It had all been going so well. She’d totally turned me on. And I could tell she felt the same. And then – nothing…

  I guess I was taking my frustration out on the water. And the sea seemed to respond with a series of angry little waves that were intent on flinging me off the board. It was like a battle of wills – each time I slapped into a wave and survived upright, I felt a surge of adrenalin. I’d started to work the whole thing out of my system when, quite unexpectedly, I shot out of the lee of the island.

  The wind was a lot wilder out in the open sea. There was a series of totally uncharacteristic gusts which caused some pretty hairy moments. Scared me into turning back. That first return run was faster than I’ve ever sailed before. As I hit wave after wave, the board was practically lifting out of the water. And then it happened…

  There was a sickening crunch and I was flung head-first into the sea.

  As I surfaced, I caught sight of the damage. The mast hadn’t simply dislodged itself, the mast foot was actually split through, so there was no way I could get it back in place. I cursed myself for being so casual. I’d noticed the pressure cracks each time I’d set up the rig, but I hadn’t considered them more than superficial. No, let’s be honest, I’d ignored them. This was the best board Stavros had and I hadn’t wanted to compromise.

  I swung myself up on the board and sat astride, wondering what to do. I waved both arms in the direction of the other windsurfers but none of them seemed to be looking my way. The only thing for it was to start paddling back towards the shore and hope that, by some freak of luck, a boat would come by and give me a tow.

  I remembered all the things the manuals told you – crystal clearly – how you should always carry flares. Who did? How I should have been surfing with others or at least have someone on the lookout for me. In fact, I remembered, chillingly, there was only one person who knew I was out here – Lucy.

  Would she have the sense to realise I hadn’t come back, or would she be too bound up with her mother? I lay on the board and paddled with my arms as hard as I could, but it hardly seemed to move. I knew I must be moving but I was so far out, my progress was almost undetectable.

  I yelled as hard as I could but my voice didn’t register in the vast expanse of sea. The wind was building up now and, intermittently, I lost sight of the land between the waves. A shudder of ice-cold panic went right through to my guts. I could die out here from exposure. The only thing to do was to stay with the board and pray for rescue.

  How could I have been such a damn fool?

  Two hours later, it was pitch dark and I was still paddling. My shoulders were at breaking point and my mouth was so dry I could barely swallow, but I was still inching the board forward, painful stroke by stroke, trying to keep sight of the lights on the shore.

  You read things about people who survive against all the odds – hour after hour, clinging to tiny bits of wreckage, or for days on life rafts. But then you hear about other people who disappear without trace, in boats which accidentally drift into shipping lanes, or lone swimmers whose bodies are never recovered. I tried to keep my mind on the positive stories as I paddled doggedly on.

  The one thought that kept me going was that one of those lights, the highest one, must be the taverna. And somewhere up there was Lucy. And that when I did get back, I’d feel the warmth of her and the closeness of her against my body again – like I had on the beach. Lovely, lovely Lucy.

  And this thought renewed my strength. She must be thinking of me. She must be wondering where I was – worried that I hadn’t come back. She must.

  It wasn’t until an hour or so later that the first glimmer of hope came. The light was so tiny, I kept thinking I was imagining it. I’d been peering into the darkness so long, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But it really seemed to be moving. Then it detached itself from the other lights. Yes, it was moving. It must be a boat – a fisherman perhaps, coming out to check his nets.

  I yelled into the wind again.

  No answer came back and so I yelled again, harder. I could see the light clearly now. I shouted again. And then I heard a distant barking – a dog. I knew that bark – it was the stray dog which went around with Ari.

  ‘Ari!’ I yelled.

  And then his answering voice came over the water to me.

  ‘Ben!’

  ‘Ari!’

  We kept shouting like maniacs and soon I could make out that the light was on the front of his boat. It cast a reflection across the water that seemed to stretch like a glittering pathway back to safety.

  ‘Ari!’

  ‘Ben!’

  I could see him now, standing up in the boat with the dog silhouetted beneath him. His bony back working back and forth as he rowed with all his strength.

  ‘Ari! I’m over here.’

  ‘OK!’

  At last he could see me, and within minutes, he drew level.

  ‘Ah, English boy! Not so clever now, eh?’ I could see his teeth gleaming in the lamplight.

  He stood over me, leaning on his oars, getting his breath back. I thought of all the bad things I’d done to him. I’d taken his job, for God’s sake. For one paranoid moment, I imagined him laughing and turning his boat round and leaving me there.

  But he was reaching down
for something. Then he threw a rope, and within minutes, I’d attached a towline and he was helping me into the boat. The dog was all over me, licking my face.

  Ari threw me a filthy old sweater and handed me a bottle of water.

  ‘Drink. Get warm,’ he said.

  I thrust the sweater over my head. It stank of fish but it was reassuringly warm. I found I was shaking. I took a swig from the bottle – my mouth felt as if it was lined with cotton wool. Ari had already turned the boat round and was rowing strongly back to shore.

  ‘Ari – thanks mate – thanks,’ I gasped.

  ‘Is OK.’

  ‘Come on. Give me an oar. Let me help row.’

  He glanced at me over his shoulder.

  ‘Siddown,’ he said with that arrogant look of his. ‘I not need help.’

  He didn’t, skinny as he was – he had no problem rowing back. I sank gratefully into the bows. The dog snuggled up beside me and I lay there savouring the feeling of warmth and security.

  The light of the taverna had been drawing closer and closer. It was above us now and I could see lights on the beach too and make out the movement of shadowy figures.

  ‘Ari!’ A shout came across the water followed by a question in Greek. It was Stavros’ voice.

  Ari shouted back and I heard him say my name. Then everyone was shouting at once. I could just see the outline of Stavros wading into the water, and suddenly his strong arms were pulling the boat up.

  I climbed out and waded to the shore.

  She was standing there waiting for me. Lucy. Before I knew it, her arms were round me and she was laughing and crying at the same time. We just stood there hugging each other.

  It was a minute or so before I became aware of Stavros standing watching us with his hands on his hips.

  ‘Wha’s goin’ on?’ he demanded.

  I extricated myself. ‘I’m not talking to her. I haven’t said a word,’ I said.

  ‘You don’t be so cheeky,’ he roared and then he put his great arms round us, hugging us both like a big bear.

  Then suddenly everyone was joining in. That is, almost everyone.

  In the excitement, no-one had noticed that Ari had pushed his boat out again. He was about to climb in when Stavros stopped him with a shout.