Page 74 of The Summer That Changed Us

‘It was a teenage girl who gave me the idea,’ Katie told them. ‘We even came up with the name together: Small Things Matter.’

Robyn and Grace made suitably impressed noises and Katie told them all about Barney and Amber. How Amber had asked for help buying period supplies for the less well-off in her school and how over the dinner they’d come up with the name for the charity.

‘Dinner?’ Grace teased. ‘I mean great news about the charity, but I want to know more about Barney.’

‘It wasn’t that sort of dinner,’ said Katie, keen to shut down that topic. In truth, there’d been moments when’d she thought there might be a connection between them. Still, no point letting her mind wander in that direction. Not right now. ‘It was Amber who invited me. And Amber who persuaded me to be interviewed for the newspaper.’

It would be the first thing she’d ever done to actively raise her profile. She felt a surge of nerves every time she thought about it. But it would be worth it to promote her new charity venture.

The more she’d researched it, the greater she realised the need was; bras didn’t just have health benefits, women could feel empowered by wearing a good bra, they could feel safe even. This charity could actually accomplish something important. She felt more passionate about this than she’d felt about anything for a long time.

She glanced at her watch and Robyn took the hint. ‘I think we’ve got enough sea glass for what I need,’ she said, collecting their buckets and tipping the glass into one.

The three of them walked back along the beach.

‘I’ve got loads of bras to donate,’ said Grace. ‘When I go back to Birmingham to fetch more of my stuff, I’ll bring some.’

Katie looked at Grace hopefully. ‘Does that mean you’re planning on staying in Merle Bay a bit longer?’

‘If Ned lets me,’ she said. ‘The house Myles and I shared was supposed to be our forever home. But forever didn’t work out, and now I know he was unfaithful to me, the memories don’t hold the same place in my heart. So as soon as the will is sorted out, I’m selling our house. You might be stuck with me permanently. And I meant it when I said I needed a project. I’ll help both of you if you want?’

‘I’d like that.’ Katie hugged her. ‘They don’t teach you this in school, do they? That life isn’t smooth sailing for anyone. There are a million and one things that can throw you off course.’

She felt Robyn’s arm around her waist. ‘Finn’s dad had a saying: you can’t direct the wind, but you can adjust the sails.’

‘Very true. But as my dad would say,’ Grace took in a deep breath and effected a deep northern accent, ‘Gracie, you’re up shit creek without a paddle.’

The three of them laughed so hard that Grace had to rush off before she wet herself and Katie was still giggling when she made it back to the shop. A handwritten note had been pushed through the letter box and lay on the doormat. Her heart thumped as she opened it, expecting the worst. But her face broke into a smile when she realised who’d sent it.

‘Yes,’ she said aloud into the empty shop, ‘yes, I will.’

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘One with salt and vinegar?’ Marco, who’d been running the Merle Bay Fish Bar ever since Katie could remember, handed the first parcel to Barney, who had his hand up. ‘And the one with salt, vinegar, curry sauce and gravy, has to be for Katie.’

‘It is. Thanks,’ she said, laughing at the horror on Barney’s face. She took the proffered receipt from Marco and handed it to him. ‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.’

‘You’re a cheap date, I’ll give you that. The Gazette would have sprung for a three-course dinner at the Anchor. We could have the best table in the house, proper cutlery, the works,’ said Barney, folding the slip of paper into his wallet. His pockets clinked with the cans he’d brought along at her request. ‘I think this is a first for me: conducting an interview over a bag of takeaway chips and a gin in a tin.’

‘You’re at the seaside now,’ said Katie, as they stepped outside past the long queue which stretched along the pavement. ‘Friday night, chips straight from the paper with a wooden fork – you’re living the dream. And we will have the best seat in the house – follow me.’

She led him down a narrow, cobbled lane, away from the busy main street.

‘This is nice,’ he said, looking around.

The lane was lined both sides with chunky cottages, their slate roofs topped with fat chimney pots. Each had deep-set windows beneath stone lintels, tiny attic rooms up in the eaves and had names like Seagulls Nest and Harbour View and Puffin Cottage. Bright pops of colour from pots of pink geraniums adorned every doorstep. An energetic lady in her seventies called Marjorie was the organiser of the street’s uniform floral display. Nula had recently convinced her to go up from a 38DD to a 40C, Katie remembered, making a mental note to tell her about her new charity.

‘If I could live anywhere in Merle Bay, it would be this pretty street,’ she said, pleased he liked it. ‘Come on, it’s down there.’

She pointed to a small alleyway and he followed her along it for a couple of minutes. They juggled their bags of hot chips from hand to hand, mourning the demise of the old newspaper wrappers they remembered from their childhood. Despite her reluctance to be interviewed, she’d replied to the note he’d delivered straight away, saying she’d be happy to meet him tonight. He was so easy to be around and, she admitted, sneaking a glance every now and again, easy on the eye, too. He had such a warmth about him. He was clearly comfortable in his own skin, just the right side of confident and permanently wore a genuinely interested expression that Katie imagined made him very good at his job. But her favourite feature of his was his eyes. She’d never thought people could truly have smiley eyes before meeting him. Yet that was exactly what his did – they smiled. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said this was her dream Friday night.

They crossed an expanse of hillocky ground, sandy underfoot with clumps of wispy grass and pretty drifts of sea rocket fringing the path. To the uninitiated, it appeared they were heading into no-man’s land and Barney kept shooting her quizzical looks.

‘This is a magical mystery tour,’ he said at one point.

‘It’ll be worth it, I promise.’

They stopped at an oak bench, silvered with age, which had been perfectly positioned to make the most of the views. In front of them, the land fell gently away. Down below, frothy waves broke continuously over the rocks and the thinnest ribbon of sand separated land from sea. Dusk was almost upon them, the sky was soft with orange light from the setting sun and the sea, reflecting the light, glittered so brightly she almost couldn’t look.