It Takes Two. Amber Aitken

       1 the gift of love

      Coral was spread out flat on her bed, knees up, making a pointy P-shape, when her mother knocked on her bedroom door. She had had a bath and was in her pyjamas watching a romantic comedy she’d already seen over twenty times. There were hearts on her duvet, hearts on her curtains…even small pink heart-shaped fairy lights draped all across her headboard. Just like her bedroom, Coral’s life had a theme: she was totally in love with love. It really made her world turn.

      Coral’s mum came in, smiling that dreamy sort of smile mothers sometimes have when you’re not in trouble or being ordered to do something. She sat down on the bed, when suddenly there was a loud yelp. The duvet came alive, rising up and wriggling in the air. Coral’s mum shrieked and leaped just as high. A black blotch of a nose emerged from beneath the duvet, followed by a white shaggy face and dark brown eyes floating in pools the colour of dark chocolate. There were two small flaps of caramel ears and another patch across the belly, but the rest of the dog’s body was white – or it was supposed to be. This, though, depended on a number of things: whether he’d been taking flying jumps at muddy puddles, rolling in washed-up seaweed, or tumbling through burrs. He was a dog with many active pursuits. This was how Coral usually explained it to her mum, who never seemed particularly impressed.

      “You nearly crushed Romeo,” Coral grumbled.

      “Coral – I have told you before. Romeo is not to sleep on your bed.” Coral’s mum looked serious. She pointed to the dog basket, positioned neatly below a large poster of two swans with their long necks curved into a heart shape, and stared sternly at the Jack Russell.

      Romeo knew which bed was his. The patchwork dog’s eyes dipped pitifully and glanced pleadingly from the pointed finger to the stern face.

      “Romeo. NOW!” Coral’s mum ordered.

      Quickly the dog scampered off the bed and bounced like a ball into his basket. He rested his chin on one paw, tucked the other over his head and pretended to go to sleep, although he was really thinking doggy thoughts.

      Coral frowned and blew noisily at the red-brown curl which had fallen across her eyes. She much preferred Romeo snuggled up against her.

      “I have something for you,” her mum revealed as she pushed a small brown envelope across the bed.

      Coral wiggled upright and reached for the offering. Her name looped in curly writing across the front. Pressing the envelope gently, she could feel something hard and long. Carefully, she opened it.

      Inside was a key and a note from her Great-Aunt Coral – after whom she’d been named.

       Dear girl,

      Weren’t we the special pair – one of us a namesake and the other a great-aunt! Here is the key to Coral Hut. I thought it only right that my beach hut and all its treasures should go to you. I’ve enjoyed watching you grow; you’ve got a good head for romance. We shared more than you know.

       I trust that you will look after and cherish Coral Hut, just as I have done all these years. It has been my very favourite place in the world. Make it yours.

       Sincerely yours,

       Great-Aunt Coral

       Coral Hut, No. 5 the Promenade, Sunday Harbour

      Coral reread the note. The words ‘beach hut’ fizzled in her memory. Now that she thought about it, she remembered her mother once mentioning that her Great-Aunt Coral owned a beach hut down at the harbour. The key was long and black and cold in Coral’s hand. She looked to her mother for confirmation.

      “Coral Hut is all yours,” she nodded, smiling.

      Coral thought about the colourful wooden beach huts lined up on the harbour like crabs with their long skinny legs pushed deep into the sand. She could find her way there with her eyes shut. Down to Café Cod. Through the cobbled alleys and behind