Page 17 of Be More Octopus

He pointed towards what looked like a cave with a few pieces of wood sticking up through the sand in front of it. 'It's only visible at low tide.'

Em hadn't noticed it before. They set off together across the beach, Jack letting Em set the pace.

'There's not much of it left now,' he said as they neared the wreck. 'Much less than when I used to play on it as a boy. It's amazing it's lasted all this time.'

The old timber had some interesting textures. The reflections in the small pools of seawater left behind by the tide caught her eye too. Em got her phone out to take some photos. 'These will look good on the house's Instagram page.'

Nancy had given her access to the Dashford Grange social media accounts a few weeks ago, saying she'd grown tired of keeping them up to date. 'But it does bring in business, so if you could take over, that would be helpful.' Em was happy to oblige.

She walked around the remains. 'How long has it been here?'

'Over 150 years. The Countess Genevieve. She set sail from Canada, heading for Bristol. Imagine battling across the wild winter seas of the Atlantic only to get blown off course so close to home. The local lifeboatmen managed to rescue all the crew. It's what got me interested in old ships.'

He moved to the front of the wreck. 'Nancy's son used to pretend to be a pirate, and I'd be the captain bravely fending him off with my wooden sword.' Jack stood in front of what little was left of the bow, re-enacting the scene with all the enthusiasm of a nine-year-old.

Em laughed. 'Nigel?'

'Good god, no. Nigel wanted nothing to do with us. He must have been 18 years old at the time, getting ready to go to Oxford. No, it was Mark.'

'I didn't realise Nancy had another son.' Nancy had never mentioned any child other than Nigel.

'I don't think they speak much now.' His expression clouded over, the joy of his childhood memory gone. 'The tide's coming in. We better go back.' He set off, head down, deep in thought, his long legs striding out. Em would've struggled to keep up even if she hadn't got a bad ankle. She hobbled after him.

It took him a minute to realise she wasn't beside him. 'I'm so sorry! I completely forgot about your injury,’ he shouted, running back to her.

He had that thoughtful look again and a slight redness around his eyes. 'Is everything ok?' she asked.

'Yes, I'm fine now.' He looked flustered. 'Are you ok? It looks like your limp is getting worse.' Jack, the gentleman, was back.

Em had overdone it, but she didn't want to appear needy again. She could manage. 'I'll be alright. I don't need you to carry me again.' Why did you say that?

'That's a shame.' What? You don't need him making a play for you. You're enjoying being single, remember?

But he looked more amused than anything. 'Lean on me instead.'

They headed slowly back towards the promenade, their arms around one another. It felt so natural - too natural. You mustn't get used to this.

'Are you sure this is alright?' Em looked up at him, not wanting him to stop but concerned about how it might look.

'Yes, why wouldn't it be?' He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Obviously, he wasn't worried about being seen in public looking like he was hugging another woman. Perhaps he was divorced.

'Do you know what I could do with?' he said as they got back to the steps. 'Proper fish and chips. All this fresh sea air has given me an appetite.'

Their walk had given Em an appetite, too, but not the sort that Jack was thinking of. She sat down on a bench, blushing at the thought. It was so confusing. Why had he come into her life now when she was avoiding men? 'Nancy recommends the one by the church to all the guests,' she said.

'No, the Dolphin Fish Bar is better - it used to be anyway.' He looked at his watch. 'Probably shutting soon, though.' He sounded disappointed.

'Why don't I sit here, and you go? We won't get there in time otherwise.'

'Excellent plan - text me your order.'

She watched him running eagerly up the hill.

Em sat gazing out over the waves thinking about Jack. Her phone buzzed. A text from Lucy.

HAVE DATE WITH THE HUNK