The Secret Cove in Croatia. Julie Caplin
busy checking out who was looking her way.
‘Are you going to be all right walking to the beach?’ asked Nick in a strangled voice, looking down at her shoes. ‘It’s quite a long way. Haven’t you got any flip-flops or anything?’
‘Darling Nicky –’ she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, rubbing her hand over his biceps ‘– I’m sure if I run into any trouble you could carry me.’
Easily charmed, thought Maddie crossly, as Nick’s face creased into a doting smile. The man was a complete idiot.
‘I could tuck you under one arm with no problem at all,’ he said. ‘Here, let me take that for you.’ He reached for her enormous striped beach bag. ‘Are you going to … have you got a cover-up or anything?’
‘Darling, you are so cute. Cuver up.’ She emphasised his northern vowels. ‘I love it when you’re all buttoned-up and northern. So prudish.’
Simon sniggered, while Siri tutted. ‘For God’s sake, Tara, put something on. You can’t go parading through the streets looking like that. There’s nothing prudish about it.’
‘Bloody hell, Tara, that’s some swimming cossie,’ Douglas blurted out, bellowing across the road before coming to join them. Next to him, Cory in a white crocheted bikini top and tiny navy shorts turned puce.
‘You’re just attention-seeking,’ continued Siri in a low voice, ‘and trying to upstage Cory. Job done, so cover yourself up. Surely in that huge bag you’ve got something. What the hell have you got in there? We’re going to the beach for the day, not on safari for a week.’
With ill grace, Tara yanked a sheer red chiffon tunic out of her bag, which still left little to the imagination but was a slight improvement.
Maddie heaved an enormous sigh of relief when they finally moved off and then began to giggle to herself. She was glad she wasn’t joining the party.
An hour later, with her own beach bag of essentials, she set off, giving a cheery wave to the crew on the boat moored next door, who were still busy serving breakfast. She deliberately turned in the opposite direction to the one the others had taken this morning; she had no desire to bump into any of them. In fact if she saw Tara she’d have a hard job not to push her into the sea. Her room was back to being a pigsty and the wretched girl had been sick again and had tried to clean it up. Badly.
Bol, she decided, pulling down her sunglasses, was delightful. The buildings were all built from creamy white stone, with wooden shutters and the now familiar terracotta tiled roofs. Tall stone buildings lined the harbour area and she walked along the cobbles skirting the harbour’s edge, where small boats bobbed gently and tables were laid for lunch. She followed the little stone path which wound its way around another smaller harbour area and then up some steps past a few buildings. At the top she rounded a corner and immediately below was a small pebbled beach edged by the deep aqua blue of the sea. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a colour quite like it and it triggered that ache to paint, one that dogged her so often it almost hurt. However, she’d brought her sketchbook with her and today was a holiday, so she was going to indulge herself.
Skirting the restaurant commanding the main view of the beach, she skipped down a set of steps which led down through a small avenue of pine trees offering cool shade and hopped down from the stone wall onto the picturesque pebbled seafront. Maddie smiled. This was it, the perfect spot. The beach was no more than a few metres deep and some families had set up camp right at the water’s edge, while others had spread themselves out on the wall.
Tramping across the small stones, which was hard work, she headed for a spot towards the other side of the beach near the sea and spread out her towel before stripping off. Yesterday she’d watched enviously as the others had swum and played in the sea. Now it was her turn. Picking her way barefoot was excruciatingly uncomfortable, although it didn’t seem to bother the little children playing happily in the shallows. When she eased herself into the water she was thrilled to find that it was cool rather than cold.
She swam out to the boundary of the beach, where a rope and buoys created a safe area for swimming. There were quite a few boats shimmering in the hazy sunshine, a few as big as the Avanturista, gliding along in full sail, and lots of smaller speedboats zipping along, bouncing across the waves, the wash drifting into the shore.
Floating lazily on her back, she watched a group of Croatian children snorkelling, swimming and jumping from the rocks nearby. One of them emerged from the water, one hand held aloft, waving what looked like a small green rag, and began chasing another child, giggling as he waggled the green thing. Suddenly there was a spurt of water towards the second child, who ducked with a scream of laughter and the first child tossed away the makeshift water pistol.
Intrigued now, she watched as the other children began to dive below the surface, some of them finding more of what she guessed was some kind of sea creature.
‘They are sea cucumbers,’ said an elderly man swimming nearby, with a nod towards the children.
‘Ah, I did wonder,’ said Maddie with a smile.
The old man shook his head with an indulgent smile and swam off, giving the children a wave.
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