One Last Summer at Hideaway Bay

by Zoe Cook

  ‘I’m going in,’ she said, walking towards the water. ‘Coming, Nin?’

  ‘Sure,’ Nina said, wiggling her shorts down and pulling her vest top off.

  ‘You haven’t even told him you’re leaving tomorrow?’ She sounded exasperated. Lucy carried on walking.

  ‘It’s better this way,’ she said, unsure of whether she really believed this herself.

  ‘It’s cruel,’ Nina said. ‘Don’t make me cover for you, please.’

  ‘You just have to not say anything tonight, that’s all,’ Lucy said, annoyed again. It was typical of Nina to make everything about her.

  ‘Look, Lucy, I know you’ve been through hell the last couple of years, but Tom’s done everything for you, to support you. You just leaving like this, it’s a massive betrayal. I can’t believe you’d do it to him, to all of us, really.’

  ‘I can’t stay,’ Lucy said, stepping into the water. It was surprisingly cold. ‘He’ll understand one day. It’s not good for either of us in the long run. If I stay here, it’ll drive me crazy.’

  ‘Where are you going to stay? Claire’s?’ Nina asked.

  ‘Yeah, ‘til I get myself sorted,’ Lucy said.

  ‘I don’t think you should do this,’ Nina said, sadly.

  ‘Well it’s not your call.’ Lucy dived under the water – better to get the shock of the cold over in one go. She knew she was being hard, selfish, unfair, but what were her options? This town would drive her slowly mad. There were too many memories; the house, even Tom – everything reminded her of her family, of what she’d lost.

  Nina didn’t say anything. Despite her protests she kept Lucy’s secret. As evening turned to night Lucy had her moments of doubt. She had it all written down, what she wanted to say to Tom, how much she wanted him to come and join her in London. She nearly gave the letter to him a few times. But then she saw his face as he talked about the beach, his parents’ café. She couldn’t ask him to leave all of that – it meant too much to him. She had to do the harder thing and let him live his life here; she would build her own life somewhere else.

  She hugged Kristian and Nina goodbye and walked hand in hand with Tom across the beach towards his house. He stopped, abruptly, to go back and pick up the board wax he thought he’d left where they’d been sitting. Lucy carried on walking, slowly, pulling her toes through the sand, leaving spidery patterns. A solitary campfire dwindled on the sand ahead of her, its creators probably back at the campsite drinking in the bar, its embers still glowing, but flames fading. She carefully slipped the letter from her pocket and dropped it onto the orange lumps, watched it catch and shrivel into itself, and then into nothing.

  41

  ‘Thank you so much for this,’ Lucy said, walking with the vicar towards the beach.

  ‘It’s my pleasure,’ he said, spotting the arch of flowers erected by the cliff side, the row of lanterns leading towards it. ‘You’ve done a great job, especially given the timings.’

  ‘Thanks’ Lucy said. ‘Everyone’s been amazing.’ she looked around at the scene. Rows of chairs from the café had been carried out by the guys from the surf school and now faced the arch of flowers that Mel, the florist, and Liv’s mum, had donated, refusing payment in spite of Tara’s protests. Olly had strung a stream of multi-coloured ribbons down the sandy aisle, while Tara had scattered a rainbow of rose petals underneath.

  ‘How is he feeling?’ the vicar asked as he fiddled with a microphone, prompting crackles and squeals.

  ‘He’s okay,’ Lucy said. ‘He’s not great. But he’s looking forward to today. It really means a lot, the way everyone’s come together like this. I don’t think any of us expected quite this much.’

  ‘Yes, this town has a real heart,’ the vicar said. ‘In my experience most people are genuinely kind and generous – they just need a reason to show it.’

  Nina was getting ready in the Seascape Hotel, Hideaway’s five-star super-resort, with her mum. Lucy was hoping to pop back there for a glass of champagne before the ceremony, but there was still a lot to sort out at the café for the reception. Nina had embraced the idea of a quick wedding on the beach with a passion Lucy hadn’t expected. She had always wanted the big fairytale wedding, probably at an old house, with hundreds of guests and an amazing meal. Lucy and Tara had done their best with the offering at the café, but she knew it wasn’t quite the dream Nina had always had. She’d spoken to her to check that she was truly happy with it all, and Nina had just said the same thing each and every time – It’s Tom, Lucy. All that matters is that he is there.

  Lucy had been there when Kristian asked Tom to be his best man, she had watched his confused face turn to pride and then joy as Kristian explained the plans. It had given Tom a surge of energy, that injection of anticipation. He’d pulled Lucy onto his lap, leant into her neck and whispered, ‘We’ll have to buy you a dress’. Lucy stroked the pink silk wrapped around her body. They’d gone to Truro, her and Nina, with Tom’s credit card, to pick something. She thought he’d like this, it showed off her legs, skimming her thighs.

  Nina’s mum and dad had driven down from Cardiff and set themselves up in the Seascape in order to help with the preparations. Seeing Tom again after years apart had been an emotional scene. Everyone had such fond memories of him. So many people loved him, Lucy had thought as she watched them try not to cry at the sight of him now: weak, unable to walk unaided, fading. Nina’s mum insisted on driving them to Bristol, to the bridal boutique Nina’s older sister Frances had bought her wedding dress from. It was a beautiful store, cream walls lined with ornate dresses, beads and crystals sparkling in the light of the tasteful chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. Lucy couldn’t believe the prices. Nina had made a real fuss about not wanting anything ‘too fancy’ given her growing bump, but her mum was having none of it and they’d watched her try on countless gowns encrusted with crystals, lace, appliqué roses. It had been surreal seeing Nina in a wedding dress; she looked stunning, of course, but it felt a bit like playing dress-up, like playing at being real adults. Lucy wondered if she’d ever feel like a proper grown-up; she wondered if she’d ever wear a wedding dress. She thought about those weddings you read about where people get married in hospital, when one of them was about to die. She’d never understood it until now, what the point of that was. Now she wanted to do anything to tie herself to Tom, to let him know she was his, that she would always be his, that just because he was going away it didn’t mean she would forget. But they wouldn’t get married; they’d watch Nina and Kristian instead. Tom would keep the rings in his pocket and she’d carry Nina’s train – it was enough.

  At the Seascape Hotel, Nina’s parents’ suite was a hive of activity.

  ‘Oh my goodness, is this her? Thank God!’ A flamboyant-looking man wearing a system of what looked like straps covered in bottles and brushes, flicked something imaginary from Lucy’s arm.

  ‘Yes, this is her,’ Nina called from her chair at the dressing table, shouting to be heard above the hairdryer smoothing her long waves into place.

  ‘Right, come with me,’ the man said, taking Lucy by the hand and sitting her on the edge of the bed. He was tutting as he examined her face.

  ‘There is not enough time,’ he said, to Nina not Lucy. She laughed, loudly. ‘Yes that face needs a lot of work, doesn’t it?’ she winked at Lucy.

  ‘Thanks!’ Lucy said to the guy, who was still looking at her, slightly too close to her face for comfort, with what was clearly disappointment.

  ‘I just like time to work my magic,’ he said, smiling suddenly, his face transforming.

  ‘Hmmm,’ Lucy said, unimpressed. She shut her eyes as he swept make-up onto her with an assortment of soft brushes.

  Nina stepped into her dress with the help of her mum and her hairdresser, and turned to Lucy.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked, looking nervous.

  ‘I think you look absolutely incredible,’ Lucy said, feeling a lump rise in her throat. Nina was draped from
the neck down in beautiful, fine lace. The train ran along the floor behind her giving the impression that she never ended. Her bump sat neatly in the fabric. She looked like a model, Lucy thought.

  ‘You look lovely too,’ Nina said, as the make-up guy held a mirror up for her to take a look. He had done a good job; she had glowing, bronzed skin and subtle aqua-green eye make-up.

  ‘Is everything okay on the beach? Thanks so much for going down there this morning.’ Nina was fiddling with her train.

  ‘It’s all good,’ Lucy said, hoping Nina would be pleasantly surprised by what they’d put together.

  The couple of glasses of champagne had gone to Lucy’s head, she realised as she stepped out of Nina’s dad’s Jaguar at the bottom of the hill. She helped Nina out of the car and located the end of her train, scooping it off the ground.

  ‘I can’t believe we are doing this,’ Nina said, turning to her.

  ‘I know,’ Lucy said. She took Nina’s hand and squeezed it.

  Nina’s mum kissed her and went off to take a seat. ‘Be fashionably late, darling,’ she said as she left, probably worried that Kristian would be.

  Lucy stood with Nina and her dad, listening to the sound of the waves. The novelty of a bride at the edge of the beach was creating a stir among the tourists, and a few people stopped to take pictures. ‘Who wants photos of a stranger’s wedding?’ Nina’s dad asked, shaking his head with a proud smile.

  Music sounded and Lucy took a deep breath. She felt strangely nervous.

  ‘Ready?’ Nina’s dad asked his daughter.

  ‘Ready,’ Nina confirmed, and the three of them turned the corner onto the beach.

  Lucy gasped silently at the scene. Every single chair was taken and people were standing to the sides and behind the rows. A sea of colourful dresses and pastel suits had assembled on the beach, and further back groups of visitors stood, smiling, watching too. Lucy looked down the aisle and saw Claire smiling back at her. The sight of her sister back here was comforting and shocking. Claire looked gorgeous, with her hair pinned up, her make-up done. Lucy was glad she’d come. She spotted Tom sitting on a chair at the front, next to the vicar. He caught her eye and smiled, his whole face lighting up. You wouldn’t even know he was ill, Lucy thought, smiling back. He looked almost overwhelmingly handsome in his grey suit. Kristian had his back to the crowd and turned only at the last moment, when Nina was a few feet away. Lucy watched as he took in the sight of his bride, with the pride, the love, written all over his face. She felt herself well up and willed herself to hold it together.

  The service was simple. The vicar’s sermon was short. He talked about love, eternal love. It was poignant without being sentimental, and perfectly judged. Nina and Kristian walked down the aisle as husband and wife to the Kooks’ ‘Naïve’, a strange choice, but it worked somehow. It was very them, Lucy thought.

  Everyone made their way towards the café after the ceremony. Tara had closed it for the day to prepare and Lucy was impressed by what she’d pulled off inside. Paper decorations hung from the ceiling and jam jars full of flowers were dotted around the tables and along windowsills.

  ‘Oh my goodness,’ Nina said, as she walked in ahead of Lucy. ‘This is too much, I can’t believe it.’ Lucy handed her a tissue from her clutch bag, pleased that Nina was so impressed, but worried about her spoiling her make-up.

  ‘This really is something else,’ Kristian agreed. ‘Better than anything we’d have organised with a year’s notice.’

  Lucy smiled at her friends and took a glass of champagne from the tray offered to her by the waiter at the door. Kristian took hold of the other side of the glass and pulled it back to make room for Tom. He wheeled in and took a glass too, holding it in the air as he cried, ‘To Mr and Mrs Hutchinson’, and they all clinked in the air.

  Stefan sent platter after platter of lobster rolls and steak burgers out from the kitchen, as groups mingled and talked, listening to the band playing on the terrace. Lucy stood with Tom on the boards, her arms draped over his shoulders; they stood silently, listening to the music.

  ‘I’m so glad I could see this,’ Tom said.

  ‘And they’re so glad you could be here,’ Lucy said.

  ‘I always thought we’d get married one day, when we were young, you know,’ Tom said, looking out towards the sea.

  ‘Me too,’ Lucy replied.

  ‘Who would’ve thought it’d be those two to beat us to it,’ Tom started to laugh but it turned into a cry. Lucy dropped down to face him, held his head in her hands.

  ‘They’re a pair of gits,’ she said, smiling. He kissed her softly on the lips.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘This is just a bit much. Can you give me a minute?’

  Lucy walked away to get more drinks, leaving Tom in his chair, facing the water, his sun-kissed hair blowing slightly in the wind. The familiar pain in her heart heaved and she felt like just falling to the floor and crying herself. Every day was a battle not to do that, to carry on, to be stronger than she felt, for Tom’s sake. For his parents.

  ‘What a beautiful service,’ Tara said, offering Lucy a glass of champagne.

  ‘It really was, wasn’t it?’ Lucy agreed.

  ‘Even Olly got emotional,’ Tara said. ‘That’s quite something, hey?’

  Lucy smiled and glanced back to Tom, but he wasn’t there.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all take a seat, it’s time for a few words,’ Nina’s dad spoke across the sound system. Lucy looked around for Tom and spotted him by the band, next to Nina’s mum, laughing with her about something. Lucy pulled up a chair next to Tara at a table by the window, reaching for a second glass of champagne to see her through the speeches.

  Nina’s dad’s speech was hilarious; littered with stories from their school days that Lucy had forgotten. She felt herself redden as people turned to look at her when he recounted the time he came to pick them up from The Cliff, when Lucy had had far too many vodka-and-orange juices and had promptly disappeared into the foot well of his car as he pulled away, having failed to fasten her seatbelt. In a bit of a role reversal, Tom’s best man’s speech was a bit more serious, the jokes about Kristian overshadowed by the collective knowledge about the situation. Tom spoke so beautifully about his friendship with Kristian that the room was littered with wet faces, the women handing out tissues and the men stifling tears. Lucy saw Tom’s dad, tears in his eyes, unable to contain the emotion, his wife’s hand on his leg as she smiled proudly at her son. Lucy was determined to be a support to Tom, but she could feel her heart breaking as she sat there, determinedly looking at him, smiling encouragingly.

  ‘I suppose, ultimately, what I admire most about Kristian, is that he is a truly good, kind person. That may sound like small praise, like those are simple things to be, but it isn’t and they aren’t. He has been the best friend I could have ever wished for, in every situation we’ve found ourselves in, including this pretty shitty one,’ he gestured towards the wheelchair behind him and laughed slightly.

  ‘And Nina, I know he is going to be the best husband to you, as you deserve, of course.’ She smiled at Tom and he leant over to kiss her on the cheek.

  ‘Love is precious and I’m so happy to be here to celebrate yours,’ Tom raised his glass towards Nina and Kristian.

  ‘May love be never-ending!’ He moved his glass towards the crowd, who rose to their feet to repeat his words in a toast:

  ‘May love be never-ending!’

  ‘And may the champagne be never ending too,’ he added as everyone remained standing, breaking the atmosphere into relieved laughter.’

  With the party in full swing behind them, the four of them walked slowly towards the beach, Tom holding on to Kristian and Lucy.

  ‘This has been the best day of my life,’ Nina said, as they stopped at the water’s edge, the sky stretched out ahead of them above the sea.

  ‘Bloody good job, really,’ Kristian said, laughing.

  ‘Mr and Mrs,’ Lucy said,
smiling at her friends. ‘Who would’ve thought it?’

  ‘Guys, I’m sorry,’ Tom said, Lucy turned to him, concerned.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I just don’t feel too good, I’m so sorry. I think I need to go home.’‘Of course, no problem,’ Kristian said, looking back to the party. ‘Let me just go and get your dad. Is that alright?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, thanks. Can I just sit down a minute?’

  They moved back a few metres from the water, to dry sand, and sat Tom down. Lucy sat next to him, put her arm around him and kissed his shoulder.

  ‘Are you alright?’ she asked gently. ‘Have you taken your meds today?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m just tired, Luce, that’s all,’ he said, looking into her eyes. ‘You stay here, okay? I really don’t want you missing tonight to be cooped up at the house with me.’

  ‘No, I’m coming back,’ Lucy said, feeling panicked. She didn’t want to stay here without Tom.

  ‘No. You’re not. It’s not up for discussion. I want to be on my own anyway. I just need some sleep. You can come and get into bed with me later, when you’re drunk. Just try not to be sick on me or anything,’ he smiled at her, and she realised this was a discussion she wasn’t going to win.

  At the back of the café, she watched Kristian and Olly help Tom into Neil’s car. He hugged Nina and Kristian, and kissed Lucy goodbye, ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’ he said, closing the door. He wound down the window. ‘I love you.’

  42

  Eight Months Later

  ‘Tara!’ Lucy called up the stairs.

  ‘I’m coming, one sec,’ came the reply, amid thuds and wardrobe doors banging.

  ‘Wear the red one!’ Lucy shouted. She’d spent last night helping Tara decide which dress to wear today. She was sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine and waiting for Tara to appear in the living room in each of the, many, options.