To be honest, I don't even know what was going on when I wrote this chapter. I churned this out in two evenings, and with no proper plan of where I'm going next. I'm truly going with the flow.
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Never before had I been more in need of a day off.
The past four days had really taken it out of me. At first, it’d been okay, but after yesterday morning the constant chaos had started to grate. The extra few hours in bed I’d been granted this morning were much welcomed, and just the prospect of a work-free day was enough to put me in better spirits than I had been all summer. Today, there’d be no folding towels, no disgruntled guests complaining about the loud TV from the room next door, and definitely no room service.
And I was going to enjoy every second of it.
The sun was high in the sky over Walden, the entire town bathed in a soft glow and accompanying heat. Our house lacked a proper air conditioning system, and I’d soon grown tired of pacing in front of electric fans, parading around in the airiest clothes I could find. Eventually, I had come to the conclusion that there was nothing for it but to grab a towel, bikini and a bottle of sun cream and head to the beach.
It was how I’d ended up here, lounging on the shingle at the edge of Walden Beach. Tourists were closing in on me in every direction, their continuous rowdy babble almost masking the noise of the sea itself, but it was still the most relaxing spot in town. All I had to do was shove in my earphones, close my eyes and imagine I was lying on a deserted tropical island – I could almost fool myself into believing I was there, instead of a holidaymaker honey pot on the south coast.
I must’ve been lying undisturbed for at least an hour, at the end of which my mind was already beginning to fall adrift, bordering on the edge of snoozing. Had I been left alone for five more minutes, I probably would’ve ended up taking an afternoon-long nap. However, just as my iPod was flicking between Taylor Swift tracks, I felt the warmth suddenly disappear from my skin, a dark shape visible even behind my closed eyes.
Blinking hazily, I lifted my head up to get a better look at the person standing over me.
It took a few moments for their identity to click into place; it might’ve been my still-adjusting eyes, but there seemed to be something distinctly different about their appearance. “L-Leon!” I stammered, instantly becoming hyper-aware of the fact I was wearing nothing more than a striped bikini, lying in plain sight of him.
“Sh!” he hissed, quickly glancing over his shoulder to check my exclamation hadn’t attracted too much attention. However, nobody around us appeared particularly bothered, even if they had managed to hear me over the noise of the nearby screaming twins fighting over the best spade. As I scrambled into a sitting position, rifling in my bag for the T-shirt I’d abandoned to cover myself up, I suddenly realised what was different about him.
His hair had been completely transformed. In the place of his former swooping blonde style, he was now a definitive brunet, hair ruffled and messy atop his head. I’d become so used to his unchanging peppy image that he was barely recognisable with this new look.
Pulling the T-shirt over my head, I stared up at him. “What have you done with your hair?”
“Had to get a disguise, didn’t I?” He pulled his sunglasses off completely, faking a model pout. “What do you think?”
“Looks different,” I said truthfully.
“Good. That was what I was going for, anyway.” He plonked down on the stones beside me, though I’d by no means invited him. “I think it’s working. I managed to walk the entire length of the boardwalk and nobody even gave me a second look. ‘Course, I was wearing my sunglasses, but with some coloured contacts and a better tan, I think I might get away with it.”
“Just hope for rain,” I said. “The moment it arrives, this place is a ghost town.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He glanced over at me, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. “So what’s up?”
“Well, I was enjoying some time to myself on my day off,” I said, “but that seems to have gone out the window now, doesn’t it?”
“Hey, I’m bored. And you can hardly blame me – there’s nothing to do in this place. Believe me, I’ve checked.”
“What are you talking about? There are plenty of things to do.”
“Well, come on, share. Can’t you show me what’s fun around here?”
“Sunbathing,” I said, making to lie back down. “That’s what’s fun.”
“Come on, Coraline,” he whined. I opened one eye, which turned out to be just enough to catch sight of the puppy dog expression he was giving me. As if he thought that’d actually work. “You’re just what I need. A local who knows the ins and outs of Walden to show a clueless little tourist like me around.”
I raised an eyebrow. “’Clueless little tourist’? Didn’t you go on a European tour last year?”
“Irrelevant,” he dismissed. “I didn’t come to Walden.”
“You did go to Paris, though.”
“Come on. You know you want to come do something fun with me.”
I snorted. “That sounds like the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard.”
He couldn’t help but smile too, before going in to nudge my arm gently. “Please?”
This time, I sat up properly, pulling the earphones from my ears. He was looking at me pleadingly, bottom lip stuck out in what was obviously meant to be a subconsciously persuading expression. I don’t know what changed my mind, but in that second, I found myself sighing in resignation, already mulling over the plan in my head. “Alright,” I said eventually, to which his face broke out into a grin. “You want to do something fun? I’ve got an idea.”
***
“This is your idea of ‘something fun’?”
“Hey, you were the one begging,” I told him, adjusting the bag on my shoulder with a smirk. “Beggars can’t be choosers. And, for your information, this is fun.”
He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I’ll give it a try. I was just expecting something more flashy, is all.”
“’Flashy’?” I shook my head. “This is Walden we’re talking about here. I hope you weren’t expecting me to show you some secret underground playboy mansion, or something.”
“You guys don’t have one of those?” Catching sight of my deadpan expression, he laughed. “Okay, okay. This could be fun too. I’m willing to give it a try.”
Still, I could see the doubt in his expression as we both looked down at the stack of bright yellow plastic. The pedal boats were all piled up against a small wooden hut on the seafront, colourful bunting hanging from the roof. I led the way as we headed up to the counter, instantly coming face-to-face with a familiar someone.
“Coraline!” Joe’s bright smile was the first thing I noticed; the fact he was missing two teeth took nothing away from it at all. Ever since I’d been old enough to be taken out in a pedal boat alongside my dad, he’d owned the hire shop – not to mention he could always be found journeying to the corner shop on a Sunday morning to get the paper. In his fifties, and balding more than he’d liked to have admitted to, he was one of the nicest people you could find in Walden. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How are things up at the hotel?”
“About as crazy as this beach,” I replied, gesturing to the stretch of shingle that was barely visible beneath a layer of holidaymakers. “Only five weeks of summer to go, right?”
“I’m counting down the days myself,” he said. “What brings you up this end, anyway?”
“I’ve got a friend in town.” I hooked my thumb behind me, gesturing toward Leon, who was hovering semi-awkwardly in the background. “Thought I’d put him behind the pedal for a bit. How much for thirty minutes?”
I’d already begun digging in my pocket for some loose change, but Joe interrupted before my fingers could even locate any coins. “Don’t talk nonsense,” Joe said, shaking his head. “It’s on the house, of course. Take one out for as long as you want. Life jackets are round the corner.” He leant in closer, surreptitiously shooting me a wink. “You have fun with your friend.”
Leon seemed impressed once we rounded the other side of the hut, digging out a pair of lifejackets in their usual unflattering shade of fluorescent orange. As I pulled mine over my head, yanking the string to inflate it, he was still shaking his head. “Is this what happens when you’re a local?” he asked incredulously. “People give you stuff, just because they know you?”
“Pretty much.” I shrugged. “But honestly, there’s only so much free ice-cream and pedal boats one person can accept.”
He helped me lift one down from the pile, taking hold of the front end as we trailed down to the edge of the shore. “I’ve never done this before, you know,” he said, once I motioned for him to climb inside and started edging the boat further into the water. Once it got deep enough, I hopped in myself. “I’m not as well-practised as you.”
“Leon, it’s literally a boat with pedals,” I told him. “It’s not rocket science.”
As it turned out, we actually made a pretty good team. Years of experience had taught me how to make it look like I was pedalling hard, when in reality I was letting him do most of the work, but I didn’t see harm in failing to mention this to him. He looked like he was enjoying himself, anyway; powering all his effort into the motions of his feet, the boat glided smoothly through the water, bringing us far enough away from the beach to drown out the noise of the chaos.
“You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?” I said, about fifteen minutes into the trip, glancing over at him and smiling smugly.
“What?”
“You do actually think this is fun.”
He tried to hide the smirk that crept onto his face, but I saw it anyway. “It’s alright,” he said dismissively. “I mean, it’s not an underground playboy mansion or anything, but it’ll do.”
“You’re so—” I stopped abruptly the same time as my foot did; the pedal seemed to have gotten stuck. We were still moving through the water, the steering controlled by the lever between us, but at a much slower speed without the momentum of my pedalling. “What’s wrong with this thing? It won’t move.”
Leon shook his head. “That better not be an excuse because your legs are tired.”
“You want to test it out?” I tried pushing it harder with my foot, using all the force I could muster, but it still refused to move. “Look, stop pedalling for a second, I’ll see if I can sort it out.”
Thankfully, he did as he was told, though this didn’t wipe the smirk from his face. Balancing myself with both my arms outstretched, I leaned forward in my seat, eventually gathering the stability to stand up in the boat. The only way to reach the pedals properly was to bend over; maybe from there, I could un-stick the problem.
My hands enclosed rubber and I tugged. The mechanism moved slightly; I’d definitely done something. All I needed to do now was pull a bit harder, and it felt as if it’d fix itself…
Unfortunately, I misjudged it. Tensing my muscles, I yanked with all my might – which, as it turned out, wasn’t strictly necessary. The pedal quickly came unstuck, spinning wildly, while I lost my grip on the rubber. The movement had also send the boat rocking, my feet instantly losing all their stability. I tried desperately to right myself with flailing arms, but it was already too late; from there I toppled over, landing with a giant splash into the cold water below.
The life jacket had me surfacing pretty quickly, my head bobbing above the water just in time to hear Leon break into hysterical laughter.
I tolerated it for about twenty seconds, but when he still refused to show any signs of sobering up after that point, my patience began to run low. Along with my body temperature. “I’m sorry, is something amusing?” I asked, as I floated along with the gentle waves, my life jacket puffed up around my neck. The chill of the water was already beginning to set in, racking my body with violent shivers in an attempt to ward off the cold.
“You… you should’ve seen your face!” he forced out, clutching his stomach, eyes squeezed shut so tightly little creases had formed around the edges. “When you fell backwards! Oh my God, that was priceless.”
“I’m sure it was hilarious,” I said, swimming toward the edge of the boat. “Care to help me back in?”
It took him at least another thirty seconds to get his laughter under control; eventually he staggered out of his seat, struggling to keep a straight face as we made eye contact, and stuck his hand out to me.
He was obviously expecting me to pull him in as well; I could tell by the way he’d positioned his feet at shoulder width apart, his arm ready to grab onto the edge should I so much as attempt. I had to admit I’d considered it, but that sort of attack was just too predictable to be effective. He’d guessed my game and I knew it, leaving me to decide against the option as his palm encircled mine.
I hadn’t intended for it to happen. But as our hands linked, and he prepared to yank me back up onto the bright plastic boat, my flailing free hand gave me an idea. The loose waistband of his trousers was far too tempting, the opportunity too good to resist. Before he could even guess what I was moving in to do, I pulled myself up, grabbed the hem and tugged.
He may have let me go immediately, sending me freefalling back into the water with a second resounding splash, but it was only because his trousers were round his ankles.
“What the hell was that?” he asked, and I righted myself in time to see him hastily pulling them back up, his cheeks burning. Still, he hadn’t been quick enough to stop me catching sight of his bold Union Jack print boxer shorts.
“That,” I said innocently, treading water like it was second nature, “was a little something called revenge. For laughing at me.”
“You pantsed me!”
“Old school, but effective, right?” I moved closer to the boat, grabbing hold of the edge and hauling myself upwards with all my strength. “I think we’re even now.”
We were both standing now, my head tipped upward in an effort to maintain determined eye contact. His cheeks were still tinged faintly pink, though the colour was fading quickly, and little droplets of water lingered from the several splashes. “You’re a right case, Coraline,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You know that?”
“I’m taking that as a compliment,” I said, though I couldn’t recall ever being described as anything of the sort before. Especially not over summer, when my daily schedule consisted solely of work for the hotel and a professional front was maintained at all times. “I think we’ve had enough of this boat, though. I don’t particularly fancy sitting out here sopping wet.”
“I was actually beginning to enjoy myself,” he announced, with a smug smile. “But sure.”
We both clambered back into our original seats, manoeuvring the boat until it was facing the opposite direction, before beginning to pedal back towards the shore. For the most part, we sat quietly beside each other, only the continuous noise of splashing water for company. It was only when we’d been making steady progress for a minute or two that I dared to comment, “Union Jack, though? I was at least expecting a pair of Calvin Kleins.”
But he’d already expertly recovered from his previous embarrassment, with more grace than I could ever dream of. “What can I say?” he said, with a knowing smile. “I’m patriotic.”
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Lol what even was this? I have no idea what I'm planning to do with this story, nor where it's going to go from here. I didn't even really edit this chapter; it was pretty much a first draft. This story is very much touch-and-go at the minute, so bear with me. Hopefully it'll turn into something decent in the end, but even if it doesn't, it's not a serious project. NaNoWriMo is due to start in a week and from then on, that'll be my main focus. I can't wait to carry on with Trapeze after so long!
Please drop me a comment to let me know if you liked it! They're very motivational :)