The day before he was supposed to leave, he turned up to wish the girl goodbye but found her missing. She had left a note and her family were frantic. She had run off with the intention of stowing away on the ship so the pair could be together, but they never saw each other again.
The lad didn’t make it back to port before the ship set sail and news reached him that it was wrecked just three days into its journey. His love was lost and he killed himself shortly after. It was now said that he haunted the Wynmouth shoreline, walking backwards and forwards with a lantern, calling out to sea for the girl who had perished in the waves.
‘And that’s why I never walk Skipper on the beach at night,’ George quietly finished and I felt a shiver run down my spine.
‘That’s so sad,’ I sighed.
‘And scary,’ Joe shuddered. ‘I don’t much like the thought of ghostly apparitions walking up and down the beach. That sailor could be practically on your doorstep, Tess.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ I squeaked.
‘Don’t worry,’ he nudged, ‘Bruce and I will walk you home.’
There was no sign of Hope or Sophie when we left and all we got out of Sam was a terse nod.
‘Why do I get the feeling there’s not much love lost between you and our lovely landlord?’ I asked Joe, once we were outside in the refreshing but still blustery air.
‘Because there isn’t,’ he sighed, letting Bruce’s lead lengthen so he could explore the empty lane.
‘And why is that?’
Joe didn’t answer straightaway and I thought I’d over-stepped the mark. I wanted to ask how he knew Hope too, but he clearly wasn’t keen to share.
‘How about I take you out for coffee on Friday,’ he surprised me by suggesting, ‘somewhere further afield than Wynmouth, and I’ll tell you then.’
I was about to turn him down, but then I remembered my earlier determination to try and keep busy and besides, my curiosity about the situation was aroused, even if it wasn’t any of my business.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Great,’ said Joe, taking a step closer to help me as I fumbled with the rickety garden gate. For a moment I thought he was going to kiss my cheek, but he didn’t get the chance.
Bruce let out another ear-splitting bark and dragged him back up the lane, leaving me looking after him and laughing.
‘See you Friday!’ Joe called over his shoulder.
‘Yes, Friday!’ I called back.
Chapter 12
The next day dawned sunny and bright and with the electricity supply thankfully restored. The heat warmed my neck and shoulders as I walked down to the beach after breakfast and, had I not witnessed the weather of the previous few days for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it had been so rough.
‘Good morning, my dear,’ said George, as he and Skipper fell into step next to me. ‘Did you manage to get some sleep last night?’
‘Surprisingly, I did,’ I told him. ‘Although I seem to remember my dreams featuring a ghostly apparition with a glowing lamp walking up and down the beach.’
George nodded.
‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘It’s a tragic tale and not easily forgotten.’
‘I daresay the two lovers passed each other on the road in their attempt to reach each other, didn’t they?’
‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘you might be right. The young girl would have no doubt been in disguise so her beau could easily have missed her and she would have shied away from folk on the path for fear of discovery. Dear me.’
‘The path to true love certainly didn’t run smoothly for that pair, did it?’ I said.
‘No,’ he said, untangling Skipper’s lead, ‘or for the lasses of Wynmouth now either, it seems.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes,’ he said, with a mischievous smile, ‘now.’
‘Whatever do you mean, George?’ I frowned.
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t notice all that posturing between the two most handsome men in the pub last night!’
‘What?’
‘Sam and that Joe Upton fella,’ he said, before adding with a nudge, ‘what a pretty pair those two make, hey?’
‘George!’ I laughed.
‘What?’ he said innocently. ‘I might be getting on a bit, but I can still spot a good-looking guy when I see one. Or in this case, two. And I can certainly see when they’ve got their eyes set on the same beautiful young lady.’
Yes, I supposed it had been obvious that Joe had more than a friendly look in his eye when he spotted Hope, even though she was already spoken for.
‘Um,’ I agreed, wishing I already knew the history between the three of them.
‘Must be nice to have your pick,’ George added wistfully.
‘Yes,’ I sighed, ‘I suppose it must.’
George went to say something else, but just like Bruce the night before, Skipper was in no mood to hang about, especially when he spotted someone else he recognized.
‘Oh, there’s Thomas,’ said George, literally following his little dog’s lead, ‘will you excuse me, Tess? I’m sorry to rush off but I need to talk to him.’
‘No worries,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you later.’
He rushed off, brandishing his walking stick and I carried on towards the beach huts. With the weather finally looking up, I was determined to get a proper look at them.
‘Morning,’ said a young mum, as I skirted around the rockpools, which were almost all surrounded by fascinated underwater enthusiasts. ‘Isn’t it lovely to finally see the sun?’
‘Morning,’ I smiled back, as her daughter began to screech that she’d spotted a starfish. ‘Yes, it is.’
I was almost tempted to stop and admire her five-legged find, but I carried on. I would find out for myself what surprises awaited me in the pools when I decided the time was right to explore them. They, and their intriguing inhabitants, were always such a highlight that I knew it would be worth the wait.
The beach huts were all let, and the majority were opened up, their residents enjoying tea brewed on tiny stoves and reading the morning papers on the little wooden verandas. The huts reminded me of the rainbow-patterned playhouse I had as a child. It seemed to me that, even as adults, we never really grew out of wanting to play house in miniature form.
I stopped and looked towards the back of the one where Joe and I had kissed. I didn’t know what I expected to see or feel, but there was no thunderbolt or golden glow around the magical spot, just sand and a Marram grass backdrop. I wondered if the lack of sparkle was the result of having met the boy and him knocking over the pedestal I had put the cherished moment on by not remembering it at all.
‘You all right, love?’ asked a chap who was sitting in a deckchair just next to where I had stopped.
‘Yes,’ I said, giving myself a little shake. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t apologize,’ he said, ‘you looked miles away. Are you sure you’re all right?’
I had actually been years, rather than miles, away.
‘Yeah,’ I said again, ‘I’m okay, thanks.’