dismiss how alien it felt not to already be scanning through my inbox, and wondered if any of the local kids I used to hang around with still lived in the village. We had only ever been on first-name terms and I probably wouldn’t be able to recognize them now, but I would keep my eyes peeled for familiar faces, nonetheless. Surely, there was one I would recognize should I happen to bump into him.
When I eventually opened the curtains, I was delighted to see that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and in stark contrast to when I arrived the air felt warm. I wouldn’t be needing an umbrella today or an extra layer. While waiting for the kettle to boil I opened the back door which led out into a tiny walled courtyard. It was too damp to sit out, but I would certainly be making use of the bistro set as soon as the sun had dried everything enough.
‘Good morning!’ called a smartly dressed elderly gentleman with a Jack Russell terrier on a lead when I set off to explore a short while later.
I hadn’t been planning to head out quite so soon, but after my first caffeine hit of the day, my brain had been determined to lead my body to the drawer where I’d stashed my phone and so I was sensibly putting temptation firmly out of reach. I’d also added Mum’s diary to the drawer and even though I wanted to read more, I thought I would benefit from winding down a bit before I picked it up again.
It was a novelty to be heading out so soon after I had decided to go though. With no work to go to, I had realized there was no need to straighten my hair into submission, or waste time on flawless make-up. It was all very liberating, although I had still mascaraed my lashes and applied a slick of lip gloss.
‘Morning,’ I smiled back, before jumping out of the way to let the beach tractor by.
The driver stared down at me and carried on, and then nodded to the old man as the machine trundled slowly and noisily by.
‘Are you heading down to the beach, my dear?’ the man asked as I looked up and down the lane, checking for more vehicles.
‘If I don’t get run over first,’ I told him.
‘Are you here on holiday?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’m staying in Wynmouth for a couple of weeks.’ The words made my heart race. ‘You?’
‘Visiting my sister. She moved here a few years ago after she lost her husband.’
‘She’s a local then.’
‘Oh, dear me, no,’ the man laughed before turning up the road which led to the pub car park. ‘You have to have lived here for seven generations to be considered a local. At least!’
He brandished the walking stick he was carrying and pottered on.
‘Bye!’ I called after him. ‘Nice to meet you.’
My breath caught in my chest as I stepped out of the lane and on to the seawall and I allowed myself time to absorb the beautiful view I had been craving in recent weeks.
‘You’re here, Tess,’ I whispered, a smile slowly spreading across my face. ‘You’re actually here.’
The tide was out so far the sea was hardly in sight and the beach seemed to stretch into the distance forever. I rushed down the steps, on to the pristine sand and pulled off my sandals. I didn’t care about the chill beneath my feet, I wanted to let my toes sink into the silky sand. The heady cocktail of pure and wholly natural sensations surrounding me and the plethora of emotions rushing through me, brought a lump to my throat. Standing there, taking it all in, I felt proud that I had put myself first for once, taken the plunge and run away to the seaside, rather than resolutely powering on at work.
I instinctively turned left, shielding my eyes from the welcome glare of the sun and spotted the rockpools not too far away and the tops of the beach huts in the distance beyond them. It was all still here then and, at first glance, exactly as I remembered it. I pictured Mum, wearing her sundress and reading in a deckchair as I explored the pools, and Dad poring over the newspapers beneath the shade of a striped beach umbrella.
Everything had seemed so simple then; we were a happy family with uncomplicated lives and we might not have had much money to throw