The Forgotten Village

by Lorna Cook

  ‘Hi! Oh my God, it’s you. Do you mind if I take a photo with you?’ the woman asked and automatically stood next to him.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Would you mind?’ the woman asked, holding her phone out for Melissa to take a photo. When the woman had gushed a bit more, Guy said goodbye and he and Melissa fell in to step again.

  ‘You’re just so nice. Too nice. There’s got to be something wrong with you. What is it?’ Melissa probed.

  Guy looked away and into some shop windows.

  ‘Nice guys finish last, remember?’ he said quietly

  Melissa wondered what on earth he meant and looked at him curiously.

  They walked towards the waterfront, past the row of beach huts in various pastel shades and along past the long stone Cobb, which Melissa recognised from a TV adaptation of Jane Austen’s Persuasion. On one of the small docking areas was a large white powerboat with a blue flash along the side and a canopied area for the captain. A man with a hamper greeted them on the jetty. Guy discreetly handed him a banknote and the man wished them a good afternoon’s boating.

  Melissa’s eyes almost popped out of her head. She’d been picturing a dinghy. This was a shiny speedboat. She tried to play it cool and not let her facial expression give her surprise away, as if people took her out on flashy boats all the time.

  When Melissa didn’t speak, Guy asked, ‘What do you think? Fancy a cruise along the coast?’

  She aimed for nonchalant. ‘Sure, why not.’

  He jumped in and then reached back to help Melissa, holding her waist as she stepped from the jetty. As she landed, they came face to face and their eyes met. They stood for a second and Melissa felt her stomach flip. When he finally let go of her and turned away, Melissa moved quickly into the boat and sat down on the white leather seats at the back. She looked up at the clear blue sky and wondered how her holiday from hell had suddenly picked up so nicely. She looked over at Guy, working around the boat, removing buoys and ropes, and she smiled.

  ‘Can I do anything?’ she asked.

  ‘No thanks,’ he murmured as he produced a set of keys on a floatation key ring. ‘I’ve got it covered.’

  Guy unlocked small cupboards, retrieved maps and charts and then sat himself down at the controls.

  ‘Ready?’ He turned to her, as he put the key in the ignition.

  She nodded and smiled widely in anticipation, excitement getting the better of her.

  He cruised slowly out of the harbour and when they were safely in open water, he slid over on the seat and then turned back. ‘Come up here with me.’

  She sat next to him, the small leather bench giving them no space. Melissa tried to ignore the electric sensation she received when their legs touched.

  He put his hand on the throttle. ‘Would you like to have a go? I’ll do speed, you do steering.’

  ‘Only if you’re prepared for me to crash your very expensive boat.’

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ he said, laughing.

  He pushed the throttle forward slowly and Melissa settled in behind the wheel. The sun blared down and her hair whipped behind her as he built up speed. She giggled. He looked at her and gave her an expression of mock-fear, eyes wide as he threw the throttle forward and the boat accelerated.

  Melissa squealed with excitement and gripped the wheel tighter as the speedboat moved over the water. After a few minutes, when the sea became slightly bumpy and the boat began bouncing on the waves, Guy reduced the speed and put one hand on the wheel, offering to take over. His fingers brushed against hers and she felt a flicker of excitement. She was having far too much fun.

  As Guy steered and consulted a map of the Dorset coastline, Melissa stayed in her seat next to him instead of moving to the rear of the boat again.

  They cruised past the sheer white cliff face at West Bay and Guy pointed out landmarks that Melissa was unfamiliar with. They sped past the long stretch of Chesil Beach and the famous Portland Bill lighthouse. They left Weymouth behind them and eventually Lulworth Cove came into view. They both turned in their seats to look back from the edge of the cove.

  ‘It’s a real beauty spot,’ Guy said, idling the engine. There were at least twenty boats in and around the cove with people swimming in the crystal-clear water around their vessels.

  ‘Wow,’ Melissa said. ‘It’s beautiful. Like the Caribbean.’

  ‘You should see the village.’ He pointed up the hill behind the cove. ‘I’ll take you there one day if you like.’

  Melissa wondered if one day would come, if they’d see each other again after these frantic few days ended.

  ‘Did you bring your swimming costume?’ Guy asked, shaking her out of her thoughts.

  ‘I did. I’m wearing it underneath my clothes.’

  ‘Good. I think we can find somewhere quieter than here.’ They cruised past Lulworth and after a few minutes Guy consulted his map and furrowed his brow. ‘It should be this one.’

  Melissa got up and peered across the clear sea towards a small, unremarkable inlet with a little shack situated near the rocks.

  ‘But I can’t make out if …’ He trailed off, looking through his technical binoculars. ‘Yes, look, the beach hut’s a wreck and the cliff steps are a bit dangerous, but I think it’s the one.’

  Melissa looked blank and then she stood up to get a better view. ‘Is this Tyneham Cove?’

  Guy nodded, folding his map up and shoving it back inside the cupboard. ‘I thought it might be nice to see it. This is the only access to the beach now. There’s no way through from the village these days, probably due to those awfully frightening steps.’ He nodded in the direction of the cliff.

  ‘I’d imagine they’d kill a few tourists quite nicely,’ Melissa said.

  He handed her the binoculars, but she held them down at her side as Guy manoeuvred the boat as close to the cove as he could without scraping it on the rocks underneath. He killed the engine and threw the lunch hook over the side to keep the boat in place.

  ‘The cove is much smaller than I imagined it would be.’ Melissa peered into the distance and then into the water, looking down at the depth. ‘Can we swim over and look?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s much more to see, but if you can brave the water, we can go over.’ He leaned over the boat and dipped his hand in and shuddered. ‘It doesn’t matter what time of year it is, British seawater is always stone cold.’

  ‘I thought you were a hardy boaty type?’ Melissa raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  ‘I am.’ Guy played at mock-defensive. ‘But I’m usually on a boat rather than actually in the drink.’

  ‘Oh, where’s your sense of adventure?’ Melissa took her top and shorts off and kicked her sandals to the side of the boat. She was wearing a white bikini and she noticed Guy’s eyes flick over her before looking purposefully out to the cove again.

  She threw her top at him and it hit him in the face. He laughed, but by the time he’d brought the T-shirt out of his eyes Melissa had jumped overboard and had started swimming.

  ‘Oh my God, it’s freezing.’ She turned round to face him while treading water. ‘Are you coming?’

  He was already wearing a pair of dark-blue Ralph Lauren swim shorts. He unbuttoned his white shirt and took it off, exposing strong upper arms and a hard-looking chest.

  Melissa was surprised and tried to stop staring. Wow. Mr Historian works out.

  The water was calm and became even more still the further into the cove they swam. Melissa soon felt soft sand under her feet and made her way out of the water. She noticed Guy trying his best not to stare at her while she stood on the beach, ringing out her hair. She regretted the white bikini now. It was supposed to have been something sexy in which Liam could admire her in the cottage garden, something that might have sparked her former boyfriend’s interest in her again. But Liam had never been at the cottage. It wasn’t for public display. She’d had no intention of going out in it. But when Guy had told her to bring her swimming cost
ume, it was the only one Melissa had packed for her holiday. She prayed that it wasn’t see-through when wet and she peered down to try to check. She thought it looked fine.

  Droplets of water ran down her as she looked over the old stone dragon’s teeth that had become smooth through years of being lapped by the unforgiving sea.

  ‘What on earth are these?’

  ‘Coastal defence.’

  Melissa frowned, none the wiser.

  ‘To stop German tanks from coming ashore, should we have ever been invaded.’

  Melissa’s eyes widened. ‘It could never have got to that stage, surely?’

  Guy gave her a look that said otherwise. ‘They got pretty close. I wrote a book last year about Hitler’s planned invasion.’

  Melissa gave him a knowing smile before moving towards the beach hut. ‘Of course you did.’ Behind her, she heard him laugh.

  On close inspection the hut was even more of a mess than it had looked from the boat. It had been over seventy years since it had last been tended to. The roof was half off, the clapboard walls disintegrated and battered. Shelves that may once have held books and ornaments were on the floor, rotten with water damage, and the front door was missing its glass panes and hanging off its hinges. The small curtains were all but gone; the only sign they had ever been there at all was a scrap of frayed, dirty fabric hanging from one solitary curtain ring, blowing in the summer breeze where the windows had long since blown in. The floor was intact but the damaged walls were rich with graffiti.

  ‘Some of the graffiti looks as if it’s been there since the latter years of the war,’ Guy said. ‘Perhaps soldiers came here to relax, swim, drink, smoke …’

  ‘And destroy,’ Melissa said unhappily.

  Broken beer bottles littered the floor among paint cans. Out of the corner of her eye, Melissa saw Guy wince as she tentatively walked through the debris to take a closer look at the graffiti.

  ‘Be careful.’ He reached a hand out instinctively towards her. ‘You never know if there might be needles.’

  ‘Some of this graffiti’s modern. Who comes all this way just to tag their name on a wall of an old beach hut? Or shoot up? What’s wrong with kids these days?’ Melissa asked.

  Behind her, Guy’s shoulders shook with laughter. ‘You sound like my gran.’

  ‘She’s got a point,’ Melissa returned. ‘Honestly. Why ruin a perfectly good beach hut?’

  ‘It probably wasn’t perfectly good for much longer after the Standishes left,’ he said gently. ‘If it was lucky enough to survive the army’s antics, it would have been a miracle. Then all the natural weather in the past seventy-five years, the 1987 storm for example.’

  ‘It’s just such a shame. This might be the only place Veronica Standish found something resembling happiness, and there’s just nothing left of that now. It’s a wreck.’

  She turned and picked her route back through the smashed bottles, moving past Guy as he stood in the doorway. He held out his hand to help her, wincing again as her bare feet brushed broken glass. Melissa barely noticed.

  They swam back and climbed on to the boat. As Melissa stood, drying off, she looked back sadly at the cove and the ramshackle beach hut. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but when she’d pictured it all in her mind, it hadn’t looked anything like that. Guy respectfully moved away, giving her a few moments to herself. Behind her, he clicked open the hamper.

  Forcing herself to cheer up a bit, Melissa turned. ‘What’s in there?’

  ‘A bit of a late lunch.’ He pulled out crusty bread, pork pies, Scotch eggs, sausage rolls, various dips, fruit, cheeses and chutneys. ‘Gosh,’ he mumbled distractedly, looking into the hamper and pulling out a half-bottle of chilled champagne and a punnet of strawberries. ‘I only asked for a picnic suitable for a first date and we’ve got a banquet.’ Guy looked up to see Melissa’s mouth had dropped open. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

  Her mouth closed and she smiled slowly, seawater dripping from her as she wrapped the towel round her body.

  ‘First date?’ she asked.

  Guy’s eyes shot to the side. ‘I was using it as an example for the deli,’ he bluffed.

  Melissa was smiling curiously at him. Before she could quite work out whether Guy actually might like her, he stepped forwards, dipped his head and kissed her slowly and deeply, his hands touching her lightly on her waist. Melissa’s eyes closed and she thought she might pass out. Every part of her body was tingling. She clasped her arms around his neck.

  Another boat approached the cove and some of the teenage passengers on board wolf-whistled and jeered in Guy and Melissa’s direction. They sprang apart.

  ‘I couldn’t resist,’ Guy said, threading his fingers through hers.

  Melissa stood on tiptoes and kissed him quickly on the mouth. ‘At least no one’s taking pictures,’ she said, waving at the leering teens.

  ‘The youth of today aren’t interested in someone like me.’ Guy gave her a shy smile. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here and eat back at the dock.’

  Regardless of whether it was a first date or not, Melissa couldn’t think of a more perfect way to spend it.

  CHAPTER 24

  He took her hand, led her up to the controls and they sat close together while he steered them back to the harbour. She nestled in against him and he placed an arm around her shoulders. Whenever Melissa looked up at Guy, he was smiling out to sea. Melissa was equally as happy. How had this happened? How had she found herself being kissed by Guy on a speedboat after only having known him for a few days? Because he’s a nice man, Melissa. And you’ve not had much luck with those.

  As they pulled up alongside the jetty and he tied the ropes to secure the boat, they unpacked the picnic and sat eating on the dock, legs dangling over the edge as they watched the sun go down. He popped the cork on the champagne and it flew out into the water.

  Guy looked around. ‘I hope the harbour master didn’t see that.’

  ‘This is all very smooth,’ Melissa said as he poured the half-bottle of champagne into plastic flutes and then placed a strawberry in each.

  ‘I try.’

  After the picnic, they walked back to his car, hand in hand. Melissa looked up at Guy and he smiled whenever he caught her eye.

  ‘You know, I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you,’ he whispered. His lips brushed her ear and she felt her legs weaken.

  ‘Really?’ She squeezed his hand tighter. ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘You must be blind then,’ he laughed. ‘I thought I was making it a bit too obvious for a while.’

  Back at the hotel, he kissed her at the door to her room. Melissa’s insides melted as she backed against her door and he moved with her. Maybe it was the champagne or maybe it was the exhilaration of the day, but she was adamant she’d never been kissed quite like that before.

  ‘Meet downstairs later?’ he asked huskily, backing down the hallway. She nodded, then reluctantly watched him disappear inside his room.

  Melissa closed the door and squealed with happiness before heading into the shower.

  Guy was down in the bar before she was; a stack of paperwork alongside his laptop on the low table in front of him. He was on one of the oversized squashy brown leather sofas, relaxing in jeans and a T-shirt and looking thoroughly gorgeous. He’d kicked off his deck shoes and Melissa noticed how nice his feet were.

  He held out his hand to her and when she took it, he pulled her next to him on the sofa. She snuggled in and inhaled his scent. He smelled fresh and clean, like expensive soap. He glanced around to see if anyone was looking in their direction and, on finding the coast clear, he kissed her.

  ‘Do you mind if I get on with a little bit of work?’ he asked when they came up for air. ‘My next book isn’t going to write itself, sadly.’

  Melissa nodded. She could barely speak. She touched her mouth where his lips had just been.

  Neither of them were hungry for dinner after the late picnic, so they j
ust ordered coffee. When she’d recovered, Melissa pulled out the three books about Tyneham that she’d bought and clunked two of the heavy tomes on the table.

  ‘Light reading,’ she quipped.

  He picked one up and read the blurb on the back.

  ‘What are you working on?’ she asked. He handed the book back to her.

  ‘It’s a book charting those who made the voyage out to Dunkirk in the Little Ships when they went to help the BEF evacuate in 1940. There’ll be a TV show to coincide later in the year.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘You know, I might start taking more of an interest in history now.’ She settled into the sofa and started reading. Guy grinned, then immersed himself in his work; his brow furrowed as he typed furiously on his laptop, hunching over the coffee table to do so. Occasionally, he pushed sheets of paper around to find a note he needed.

  Melissa couldn’t help wondering where all this was going. After the ridiculous fiasco of her non-relationship with Liam, was she ready to jump into something new? If this dalliance with Guy was going anywhere, then it was going to have to go there slowly. Very slowly. She glanced at him over her book and wondered if he had other ideas. What if, to Guy, Melissa was just a holiday romance? He’d asked to meet her in London, but that was when he thought she’d been leaving and perhaps that had never actually been his intention anyway. What if he had just been being polite?

  She tried to focus on her book, flicking through pages upon pages of some rather lengthy facts about Tyneham’s farming successes and lists of those in census records before finding a semi-interesting chapter about the graves of those buried in the churchyard. The villagers had been reluctant to leave for many reasons, but for some, one of their main worries had been leaving their lost spouses and family members behind in the churchyard, not knowing if they’d ever be able to pay their respects again. Melissa realised with sadness that until the village had reopened this week that they hadn’t been able to visit their graves since 1943.

  She looked up thoughtfully and spotted someone taking a picture of her and Guy. Jesus, really?