*
Having opted to keep a low profile, I left it until the last minute to head out and quietly mingle with the gathering crowd at the beach huts, just as the tide was on the turn mid-morning on the Friday of Hope’s meticulously planned ‘Big Beach Clean’.
I knew she had been a bit concerned about how many people would turn out as it was a weekday and not yet the holidays, but there were more than enough of us to make an impact. She had arranged that in subsequent months the event would happen over a weekend, but with the solstice falling on a Saturday this year, she had thought it best not to have both things on the same day, which made perfect sense to me. There was going to be plenty to do ahead of the party tomorrow without having to worry about keeping an eye on everyone’s safety and disposing of the waste we had all gathered to collect.
I tried to stay out of his way, but Sam purposefully came to stand next to me, before giving Hope an encouraging thumbs up as she climbed on to the seawall and clapped her hands together to gain everyone’s attention.
‘Good morning!’ she shouted, once they had quietened down. ‘And welcome to this, the first Wynmouth beach clean event. I’m hoping many more will follow, but that in the future we won’t have anywhere near as much rubbish to clear as today.’
Everyone clapped and cheered in response.
‘Before we get started,’ she quickly told them before they started chatting again, ‘there are a few things I need to bring to your attention.’
Having listened to her health and safety, safeguarding and ‘what to do with the rubbish you collect’ speech at least a dozen times already, I found myself zoning out.
‘Did you ever find out if any of the huts were available to rent?’ Sam asked me, nodding towards the prettily painted row.
I was relieved he wasn’t going to ignore me, but I couldn’t help thinking that it was a rather out of the blue thing to ask, but then he was probably looking for a convenient conversational opener that didn’t involve me accusing him of anything.
‘No,’ I whispered back, my eyes still focused on Hope. ‘I didn’t bother. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d use one enough to warrant it.’
Sam nodded.
‘Probably for the best,’ he said. ‘From what I can make out, they’re still a popular courting spot in the evenings so perhaps not the most relaxing place to be.’
‘Unless of course you’re courting,’ I pointed out.
My heart began to leap as I grasped that what I really should have said was that I didn’t know the huts were a popular courting spot. The last thing I needed now was to accidently reveal that this wasn’t my first time in Wynmouth and that I knew all about the huts and their romantic – for want of a better word – history.
‘I suppose that’s true,’ he agreed.
‘And what do you mean, still a popular place?’ I asked, trying to throw him off the scent he might not have even picked up. ‘Have they always been the place for romantic assignations?’
‘Well, I don’t know about romantic,’ he smiled. ‘But the local kids and teens on their holidays have always come down here to get out of sight of their parents.’
‘Including you?’ I blurted out.
‘Me?’
‘Yes,’ I swallowed, risking a speedy glance at him and finding he was looking at Hope, ‘you.’
‘I may have had a memorable moment down here,’ he admitted, his cheeks colouring a little, but probably nowhere near as much as mine.
‘Just the one?’
With his good looks and alleged popularity with the local female population I’d bet it was a whole lot more than just one.
‘Yes,’ he confirmed with real conviction, ‘just the one.’
There was no doubting that he was telling the truth. I wondered if that was because, like me, the moment had been so sweetly perfect that it couldn’t possibly be bettered or if because the crash and his lengthy recuperation from it had put a stop to him coming back.
‘So, why . . .’ I began, turning to face him as I grappled for the right words to frame the question, ‘when . . .’
He turned at the same time to look at me, his eyebrows raised in expectation as my words trailed off and I suddenly found myself back in the room, or in this case back on the beach, with the distinct impression that I’d missed something.
‘Well, go on then,’ he said, pointing at Hope, who was now beckoning to me. ‘You’re up.’
‘What?’
‘Look alive,’ he said, ‘you’re supposed to helping, aren’t you?’
‘Oh my god, yes,’ I muttered, ‘yes, I am.’
I quickly made my way through the crowd to the front.
‘Sorry,’ I said to Hope as she jumped down to join me on the sand, ‘I was distracted.’
‘You could hear me though, couldn’t you?’ She frowned. ‘I probably should have borrowed a megaphone or something.’
‘No, you were fine,’ I reassured her. ‘Clear as a bell. It was all perfect and you were brilliant.’ I smiled, certain that in spite of my inability to listen to her and Sam at the same time that she had been. ‘Now pass me the gloves and buckets and I’ll start dishing them out.’
The plan was to work from the beach huts to the rockpool area, then to the café – where Sophie was providing free refreshments for everyone who was taking part – and finally, if there was still time, further along the stretch under the cliff to the third groyne. As the time progressed, and because the tide was still rushing out, more and more beach was exposed and everyone was shocked by the amount and variety of rubbish they picked up.
As expected, there were plenty of things made from plastic such as straws, bottle tops and bottles, but wet wipes, food wrappers and cigarette butts made up an alarming amount too.
‘Would you just look at all this,’ said Sophie in dismay.
Everyone had convened at the café to drop off what they had collected next to her bins and stock up on her fortifying snacks.
‘The most depressing thing is that lots of these things haven’t even been washed up,’ she said crossly. ‘It’s all rubbish that folk have been too lazy to take away with them.’
‘I can’t believe how many cigarette butts we’ve found,’ said one young woman who was with the local parent and toddler group. ‘They were the last thing I was expecting to find.’
‘Especially in these numbers,’ said another, shaking her head as she peered into her half-filled bucket.
‘It’s really disappointing,’ said Hope.
‘And all these plastic water bottles,’ said Sophie, ‘there’s really no need for them to be a one-use wonder. I’m going to get on to the water company next week and find out how I can register to become a water-filling station.’
‘Won’t that put your bill up though, Mum?’ asked Hope. ‘If everyone who visits the beach decides to ask you for a refill, you’re bound to see an increased cost in your water bill.’
‘I’ll find out,’ said Sophie. ‘I’ll ask how it works because the world can’t carry on like this.’
It was a truly sad state of affairs but we consoled ourselves with the fact that all the rubbish we’d collected was no longer littering the beautiful stretch of beach and Hope already had a list as long as her arm of people who were promising to come back on a regular basis now the scheme was finally off the ground.