The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

by Caroline Roberts

  The next quake of thunder made Lucy start so much, she nearly jumped out of her skin. It sounded like it was right above them. With that, the tent’s zip came down, and Jack’s head popped out, lit silver by the next sheet of dramatic lightning. She spotted his arm poking out of the tent, beckoning her in. He was shouting something, but there was no way she could hear a thing in this. The arm still beckoned. If she went out now, she and Daisy would be soaked to the skin in seconds. She sat still as more thunder rumbled through the air and shook the vehicle. What was the worst eventuality? Getting frazzled by lightning or having to share a tent with Jack?

  And then there he was, stood by her car door in, hah, just his boxers and a fleece top, rattling her door handle. ‘Come on. You can have the sleeping bag. Bring Daisy. Run!’

  Rivulets of rain were already streaming down his face.

  ‘Come on,’ he repeated, ‘what are you waiting for? I’m getting piss wet out here!’ He sounded frustrated now.

  Another boom of angry thunder.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ She hugged Daisy to her and more or less fell out of the truck. Gloopy mud sucked her feet into the dank field, as a wild wind whooshed at her and rain spat wildly, stinging her face. In seconds, she was soaked through, and then she, with Daisy in her arms, was clambering into the tent, with Jack piling in after them, zipping it up in one swift motion, the wind and rain pummelling at the tent sides.

  ‘Wow,’ was all Lucy could manage.

  In the light of the torch on Jack’s phone, taking in the dripping hair and ends of noses, wet eyebrows and sodden clothes, the pair of them looked like they’d been stranded at sea. Even the furry black-and-tan coat of the little dachshund was drenched. Daisy gave herself a good shake, followed by a shiver.

  ‘Hey, it’s going to be colder staying in those wet things than getting out of them,’ Jack declared, as he stripped off his fleece and T-shirt in one swift motion.

  Was he expecting her to follow suit? She glared at him as much as she could in the half-light of the tent.

  ‘You can’t climb into the sleeping bag like that, you’ll get it soaking,’ he continued, firmly.

  Ah yes, she knew his game, alright. ‘I’m fine. You can have the sleeping bag.’

  ‘You are not fine. In about five minutes you and Daisy’ll be freezing and suffering the effects of hypothermia. Get out of those wet clothes and climb into the bag; it’s still dry. And, it’ll still be a bit warm from me, right now.’

  She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But then, weirdly, that thought made her feel a bit wobbly inside. The warmth of a man’s body was a distant memory these days.

  ‘Wet stuff off, then hop on in.’

  She gave a sigh … it made sense but …

  ‘Jeez,’ he tutted, then turned purposefully away, ‘it’s not as though I can even see in this light. I’ll turn off the torch.’

  Stripped down to her undies, damp clothes now left in a pile near the tent entrance on top of his, she clambered into the sleeping bag with Daisy tucked under her arm. It was warm and cosy. Ahhh.

  ‘What about you?’ she whispered, feeling slightly guilty now, but certainly not guilty enough to give up her quilted cocoon.

  ‘I’ll be fine. There’s more meat on my bones than yours, and I do have a blanket in here too.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  Jack left a respectful few centimetres between them, as he shifted, trying to get himself comfortable beside her. There wasn’t a lot of room to distance in a two-man tent. He rolled up his damp fleece and put it under his head as a makeshift pillow.

  ‘Night, Luce.’

  ‘Night.’

  It took a while for Lucy to doze off with all the booms and cracks still going off like elemental fireworks around them, and the odd silver flash illuminating the inside of the tent, but then the storm began to ease. The sound of the slowing rain became rhythmic, almost comforting.

  It took Jack somewhat longer to get settled. He found his heart was hammering away in his chest. Being so close to Lucy was doing strange things to him. He began to worry that she might be able to actually hear it. Or, in fact, feel it.

  Stop. Stop it! But his body wasn’t bloody listening, was it? He managed to create an extra couple of centimetres of space by backing up as near as he could to the tent lining. If she got wind of any of this response that was going on, she might well be out of there like a shot, and he really didn’t want to think of her sat in a lightning storm in her truck like a sitting duck.

  He lay there with his thoughts and, rather awkwardly, his nether regions buzzing for a while. He could hear her breathing slow, and the little sausage dog’s snores begin. It was comforting and unnerving at the same time. He hadn’t been this close to anyone in a long while.

  It was calm and still inside the dark-blue vinyl of the tent. Morning light filtered through the material. Jack could smell perfume and skin … feel the warmth of another human beside him. Tendrils of Lucy’s dark wavy hair were tickling his cheek. What? Those curls shouldn’t be anywhere near his face …

  Jack jerked his head upwards as he came to, just as she turned to face him. Phew, the sleeping bag was reassuringly still between them, as was the small sleek body of a dachshund, who was contentedly snoring, Jack realised. And what he also realised, was that he’d actually been spooning Lucy … and even now, they were still that bloody close that he was actually looking into her dark-brown, rather beautiful eyes, and if he moved just one inch towards her, they might as well be kissing.

  Lucy jolted back with an, ‘Oh.’

  ‘Oh,’ Jack echoed. ‘Awkward …’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Yeah, I was asleep, before,’ he muttered. ‘Just woken up.’

  ‘Right, well … I suppose the causeway must be open by now. The storm’s definitely blown through,’ Lucy blurted out as she sat bolt upright, waking Daisy as she moved.

  It looked like Lucy couldn’t get out of there quick enough. She’d already managed to wriggle out of the sleeping bag and was scrambling into her still-damp clothes, Daisy giving a humph at being disturbed from her cosy nest in between them.

  ‘Umm, hey look, do you fancy a coffee?’ Jack said tentatively. ‘Might warm you up a little. I’ve got my little camping stove and a cafetière?’

  ‘Hah, you do?’

  ‘The cafetière comes in handy for the espresso martinis. And the stove, well that’s always left in Ruby.’

  ‘Ah,’ Lucy paused, her tone softening, ‘yeah, alright then.’ She managed a small smile, seeming to relax somewhat.

  As Jack poked his head outside of the tent, he’d never have guessed they’d just slept through a summer storm. Apart from the odd puddle and patches of mud, everything looked calm. It was really early, only 5:30 a.m., and the crimson-gold of a new dawn was already melting away. Jack slipped on his T-shirt, shorts and trainers, and nipped over to Ruby to fetch what he needed, soon setting up outside the tent, lighting his little stove and putting a small pan of water on to boil. He loved to have real coffee. Those warm, rich flavours – the instant stuff just didn’t hit the mark.

  Lucy pulled on the rest of her damp clothes, the denim shorts clinging to her hips, and came out to join him, bringing Jack’s blanket from the tent, to give them a little protection from the sodden ground.

  He passed her a blue enamel tin mug. ‘No milk, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That’s fine.’ The coffee aroma was gorgeous as it was.

  The view out across the sea was glorious. Shades of azure and pewter, catching golden beams. A sky that was patchy with light cloud above them. A brand-new day. It made Jack feel hopeful.

  Sat together, knees hunched, coffee hugged in mugs, with a view that was serenely beautiful, they were silent for a few moments, each caught up in their own thoughts. The world would soon be waking, joining them, the stage hands packing down all the gear, litter pickers
clearing debris from the night before, and the revellers who’d camped in the field behind them slowly coming to. They’d all too soon have to head back to their vehicles, head back home. And despite Lucy’s instinct to bolt, she found herself a little reluctant to break this early morning spell. Just a few more minutes, sipping good strong coffee, watching that calm and hopeful horizon. A few more minutes.

  ‘Come on then, the sea looks gorgeous.’

  Jack was standing up, suddenly swooping off his T-shirt, his shorts. ‘Dare you!’ He was laughing as he ran off down the field towards the water in merely his boxer shorts.

  Lucy wasn’t a sea swimmer by any means. But the surrounding water looked calm and cool, and after a night cooped up in the tent … it was calling her. Despite herself, she was also drawn by this handsome male; his muscles sleek as he charged down the hill.

  ‘Come on, Luce!’ His call came loud and clear.

  ‘What are you doing?!’ she shouted after him, shaking her head.

  She stood up and watched as Jack pelted towards the water, revelling in the beauty and energy of a delightful seaside morning.

  ‘Going for a dip, of course. It’s glorious!’

  Lucy looked around. Nobody was watching, and even if they were, what did she really care? Come on Luce, no more playing it safe.

  Oh, sod it! Up she stood, and ripped off her shorts, pulled up her top, now down to her undies too, with Daisy looking on bemusedly. The morning air cool and freeing around her as she ran, the dew wet under her bare feet. She was laughing too, and then ran right in to where Jack waited in the shallows. The chill of the sea suddenly took her breath away.

  He splashed her, gently at first, and then more, Lucy scooping back great handfuls of salty water at him. Both of them dripping from their eyes and faces. She then kicked up a huge arc, which totally drenched him. He pulled a grimace and lurched towards her, grabbing her up in his arms, both of them giggling, as he pretended to dunk her upside down, until she begged for mercy.

  It was fun and fabulous and carefree, and Lucy hadn’t laughed so much or felt so alive in an age.

  Jack held her close, gazed into her eyes as he gave a smile … but then released her, diving off under a wave and beginning to swim out to the open sea. She followed him out of the shallows, swimming by his side, bobbing over the swell. Soon, they were lying on their backs like a pair of sea otters, watching the world start to wake back onshore.

  Lucy turned her head towards Jack, watching the waves gently lift and lower him in the gorgeously cool water. She didn’t want to think about the current fight between her head and heart, the line in the sand that had to be drawn: friendship, that’s all it had to be. For now, for just a few more magical moments, she’d let the sea and the sun nurture her on this beautiful summer’s morning.

  7 p.m.

  On the beach

  Jack x

  Chapter 33

  Back at her cottage, Lucy found that she couldn’t drown out her thoughts of the night before. How it had felt to lie down beside Jack. To hear his breath, feel his warmth. And, as they fell asleep, so close, the inevitable touch, however brief and inadvertent. Was he so unreliable that she’d always need to keep her distance? And why, oh why, was her skin tingling just remembering being near him?

  His words as they parted, ready to leave the magic of the island, still lingering in her mind:

  ‘Luce … take care of yourself, now.’

  He’d looked her right in the eyes, and her head was swimming. This was what she wanted after all, wasn’t it, a bit of distance. But now it felt far too much like a goodbye.

  So many feelings crushing her inside, so many words left unsaid.

  And then, after a pause, a chink in that wall re-opened, just as he was about to step inside Ruby’s cab. ‘Hey, and if there’s ever anything you need … or I can help with … well, you know where I am.’

  ‘Thanks, Jack.’

  By evening, her fingers were itching to send Jack a message, but she wasn’t sure what to say. That she’d had a good time, enjoyed their morning swim (she’d loved it, in fact) … and, her mind was drifting here, enjoyed the feel of his warm body by her side? Hah, that, she would never admit to. But why? She was meant to be steering clear, moving on, of course. Stepping out of the danger zone.

  Jack saved her the trouble, as a ping on her phone announced he’d texted her first. Her hand shook as she clicked on the message.

  Look Lucy, I know things have been a bit weird between us, and I know you’ve reasons not to trust me. But well, I can’t stop thinking about you. And it’s okay to tell me to get lost, but a guy’s got to try.

  The text stopped there. Three glowing dots teasing her while he wrote on.

  Well, I think we have a bloody good time together. I’m sure you feel that too. So, here goes. Would you like to meet up tomorrow? X

  She was both delighted and seized by indecision.

  Would she? Should she?

  What if Papa hadn’t run after Nonna with the umbrella that night? It had worked out for them, hadn’t it?

  What if she kept herself so walled up, she never gave herself the chance to love again? What kind of a life would that be?

  Lucy’s trembling fingertips paused over her phone’s keyboard, and she took a slow breath before replying, Okay, yeah why not – before she had a chance to change her mind.

  Where are you thinking? she quickly added.

  She waited for a tense second or two …

  I’ll come over your way to Embleton. Meet me on the beach, 7 p.m. X

  Okay, let’s do it. X

  Lucy’s heart gave a little anxious lift. Tomorrow … She’d see him again tomorrow.

  Meet me on the beach, 7 p.m. X, she repeated out loud. It had a nice ring to it, she had to admit.

  The next day seemed to drag. Lucy had a mound of paperwork to tackle, health and hygiene reports to keep track of, monthly accounts and her income and expenditure to update, as well as some essential ordering to do.

  In fact, she had plenty to keep her occupied, but it was a damp drizzly morning, and she was finding it hard to focus. Her thoughts kept drifting to Jack and their arranged meet-up this evening.

  After lunch, the mists lifted, and she ventured out for a walk with Daisy along the back lane from the village, past the farm. Meandering as they went and passing time watching the cows and sheep graze, with Daisy barking at a chicken that was clucking and pecking her way around the farmyard. It was still only two o’clock when they got back.

  Things got more intriguing when a message popped up on her phone:

  BTW, don’t eat much before you come out. X

  She wanted to ask why, but had a feeling Jack wanted to surprise her. Maybe he was planning a picnic supper, that’d be nice. Or was the beach just a ploy, and he’d be whisking her away to some pub or restaurant? Her mind was full of all sorts of scenarios, but she told herself not to get carried away, she still felt unsure as to how they stood.

  Can I bring Daisy along? she asked.

  Yeah, sure. X came back.

  Hmm. Still a mystery then. But she found the suspense rather thrilling.

  With the countdown on, Lucy dressed casually in pale-blue cropped jeans and a Breton-style striped top. She also tied a fleece cardigan around her waist. The beach was often breezy, with the wind straight off the North Sea, and it would soon cool down there of an evening.

  Ten to seven, at last.

  ‘Come on then, Daisy. Let’s go,’ Lucy said aloud, fetching Daisy’s lead.

  It was thankfully now dry outside, and the little dog was more than happy to head out for another walk. In contrast, with each step nearer the bay, Lucy was feeling a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. The beach was a big expanse, especially when the tide was out. Should she text him and ask where to meet? But he’d probably wait for her somewhere near the main track from the dunes … wouldn’t he?

  Oh, there was Ruby, parked up down the lane. So, Jack was already here.
Oh damn, skip-a-dee-do-dah went her heart.

  She went over the dunes now, following the well-trodden sand track. Passing a couple walking with a spaniel. A quick ‘hello’, and dog-sniff by Daisy. On again, thump-a-dee-thump went her heart.

  She caught a glimpse of the blue-grey sea, appearing between the spiky fronds of beachgrass. The path opened out and she took a slow breath before scanning the bay. Oh, he wasn’t waiting here on the sands as she’d imagined. There was a dog walker with a slow-ambling Labrador down near the shoreline. But otherwise, the beach was pretty empty.

  Apart from … a table covered in what looked to be a white cloth, set out halfway down to the water’s edge. A man dressed in a dinner suit stood beside it. Not any man either … it was Jack … and he was grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘Over here!’ he called. ‘Cocktails are served.’

  What on earth …!

  As she approached, Lucy recognised the fold-up chairs and table which he kept in the campervan, and the table really was covered with a crisp white tablecloth. A cocktail shaker was set out, along with an ice bucket containing what looked to be a bottle of something bubbly, along with two flutes. There was also a platter of delicious-looking bite-sized canapés – bruschetta and cheeses, mini sausages, figs, olives, grapes.

  ‘Jack, this is … crazy.’ She was smiling whilst creasing her brow, trying to take it all in. And there he was on the beach, in a black-tie-style dinner suit. ‘Hah, I didn’t realise I was meant to dress up for the part. Full cocktail dress might have worked better than my jeans and T.’

  ‘Hey, you look beautiful just as you are, madam. Please take a seat.’

  She didn’t have an answer to that, feeling slightly stunned, so positioned herself on one of the wooden chairs as instructed, with Daisy soon settling down beside her.