‘Finish that, then let’s stack chairs on the tables as a starter.’ Rosa’s common sense quite often belied her twenty-seven years. ‘Can you call your Alec again and see if the pair of them can grab anything like bricks or blocks so we can lift the appliances off the floor when they get here.’ Her phone rang and she added: ‘Forget that, it’s Josh calling now.’
Her husband’s voice was full of concern. ‘I can’t believe this. Are you both OK, darling?’
‘Yes, we’re all right – how far away are you?’
‘That’s the thing: a tree has gone down at the top of the hill by the garage, so we are going to have to dump the car and walk. So, no sandbags, I’m afraid. Is the sea coming up?’
Sara screamed again as another massive clap of thunder boomed overhead. Then, ‘Help! Water is coming in! Rosa, I’m scared.’
‘I heard that.’ Josh sounded urgent now: ‘Get out, Rosa – get out, both of you and up the hill now. We can sort any damage, but you two are irreplaceable. Is Hot somewhere safe?’
‘Yes, Josh, he’s over with Titch. Don’t worry, we’re leaving now – see you at home. You be careful too.’
Dirty water was now swirling around their feet like a wildly angry serpent writhing around in search of its foe. Then, with another almighty flash of lightning, the lights in the café went off, and this time both women screamed.
‘Rosa, come on.’ With hands firmly clasped, they made their way to the door and wrenched it open. The roar of the sea was deafening, and the spray and driving rain felt as if pebbles were being flung in their faces. Even the seagulls had sensibly headed inland.
Thankful to have reached the solidity of the road, the pair were then faced with not only a torrent of water running down the hill at speed but also a woman doing the same, nearly mowing them down in the process.
‘Stop!’ Rosa shouted. ‘What are you doing? It’s too dangerous down there.’
‘My four-year-old grandson!’ the woman shouted back, out of breath and looking terrified. ‘He’s down there and I can’t swim!’
‘What? You mean he’s on the beach?’
‘The water took him off down the hill.’
Without any hesitation, Rosa threw her bag at Sara and ran back towards the sea, calling behind her: ‘You two stay here.’
‘Rosa, no!’ Sara cried out. ‘The sea is too angry. We should ring the coastguard.’
Rosa ran the fastest she had ever run in her life. Reaching the beach wall, she peered over it in the strange darkness of the storm, looking desperately up and down and in amongst the waves. Spotting a little head bobbing up and down, she snatched the lifebuoy off the side of the beach wall and, careful not to hit him, she threw it, hollering, ‘Hold on, little man.’ Then, without a thought for her own safety, she took a deep breath and clambered over the wall and jumped into the angry black waters that were already waist-deep. Fighting the current, she reached the half-drowned child, put the buoy over his head and clung on to him, only to have a huge wave surge forward and engulf the two of them. Using the might of both mind and body, Rosa maintained her grip on the child and the lifebuoy. Miraculously, and somehow managing to miss the edge of the wall, she then surfed them into the relative safety of the car park of the Ship Inn. Here, the water was coming up, but only ankle-deep, thus far.
Soaking wet and staggering, she managed to pull the life ring off the youngster and held him tight to her chest as he choked and screamed in fear, his teeth chattering from cold and shock. ‘It’s OK, little one,’ she comforted him. ‘Your granny’s coming.’
At that moment, Josh and Alec came charging towards her. They had bumped into Sara on the hill and found out what was going on.
‘Bloody hell, Rosa.’ Josh was beside himself at his wife’s state. Her tight brown curls hung like rats’ tails, her summer dress clinging to her tiny frame tighter than the little boy was. She was shaking like a leaf.
As another gust of wind nearly blew them off their feet, he took the sobbing child from her and rugby-passed him to Alec. The big man deftly placed the little lad over his broad shoulder, then firmly grasped the hand of the now hysterical grandmother, who had finally made it down to the beach and was at the point of collapse. Their terrifying ordeal had ended safely, thanks to Rosa’s quick thinking and courage.
Lifting his wife like a baby into the safety of his big, muscular rugby-player’s arms, Josh squeezed her tightly to him for a second. Then with a loud, ‘Let’s get up this hill – and quickly,’ he led the shocked and drenched quartet through the driving rain to the safety of higher ground.
CHAPTER 2
Rosa awoke to the sound of cawing seagulls and her handsome six-foot-two husband leaning up on one shoulder staring down at her. A ray of light was sneaking its way through the chink in the bedroom curtains.
Since their wedding day, they had decided to carry on living in the modest two-bedroom flat above the Corner Shop. Rosa was quite happy with its quirky Victorian features, but Josh had insisted that the avocado bathroom suite should be replaced with modern white fittings, new tiles and flooring, and that the upstairs kitchen also be brought into the twenty-first century with modern grey units and a granite worktop and splashback replacing the old Formica. Rosa still loved the balcony that came off the lounge, and was adamant that the ornate railings around it should stay; a compromise that Josh was happy to accept.
As much as she did love living here, Rosa was getting quite excited about the prospect of moving to picturesque Polhampton, the local small town, where they’d have a house with more space, a garden and, hopefully, a direct sea view. She also wouldn’t miss the staircase, which was the steepest she had ever encountered, and which went down directly into the shop. She was surprised that her great-grandfather Ned had managed to stay there as long as he did – well into his nineties.
Sometimes, she still found it hard to believe that just two Christmases ago, she was renting a room in Josh’s terraced house in Whitechapel, in the East End of London. At that time she had little money and few job prospects, and the future looked bleak – something she was used to after a difficult childhood. Now, not only did she have a comfy home and her own business, but she was married to Josh, a gem of a man, and there was a bright future ahead of them. Not a day passed when she didn’t feel blessed with all the love and security that she now enjoyed.
‘Here she is,’ Josh said softly. ‘Cockleberry Bay’s little heroine.’
‘Ow.’ Rosa groaned, putting her hand to a bandage on her knee. ‘I know I’ve just got cuts and bruises, but I’m bloody hurting. Anyway, I’m being a baby. Good morning, husband.’
Josh brushed her lips with his. ‘Just because you don’t drink like a fish any more doesn’t mean you should think you can swim like one, especially in that sort of weather.’
‘Oi.’ Rosa stuck out her bottom lip. ‘There wasn’t exactly time to get the health and safety manual out now, was there, mister? And you like the fact I don’t drink any more, don’t you?’
He hugged her tight. ‘My baby. Don’t be sensitive. You know I do, but only because you are so much happier without the demon alcohol inside of you.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘I bloody love you, Rosa Smith. Please don’t be scaring me like that again.’