Summer Seaside Wedding. Abigail Gordon
was a clear blue sky and already the sun was out, warm and tempting overhead, even though it was only six o’clock. So tempting that instead of going back to bed and allowing herself the treat of a lie-in, the urge to explore her new surroundings was strong.
Within a very short time she’d breakfasted on some of the wholesome-looking food that had been left for her, had had a shower, and was striding along towards the beach in shorts and a cotton top to conceal a bikini, with a towel over her arm.
It wasn’t just curiosity that was taking her there. It was a day that Amelie intended to fill with everything except thoughts of what might have been. Exploring Bluebell Cove was top of the list, and wallowing in hurtful memories at the bottom.
When she passed the house called Four Winds an elderly man was pottering around the garden and he gave a friendly wave when she appeared. The strip of golden sand below was deserted and as the sea pounded against the rocks and the gulls continued to screech above, she was out of the shorts and top and walking barefoot towards the water’s edge in a matter of seconds, as if the wide expanse of ocean was a huge blue magnet pulling her towards it.
Leo had seen her go by from his vantage point above the surgery and had watched her walking towards the beach in amazement. Where was the exhausted young doctor of the previous night? he thought, never having dreamt that she would be up and about so early.
Getting her to Bluebell Cove and dropping her at Ethan’s house had been enough to be going on with after a busy day in the surgery with journeys to and from the airport added on, so issuing warnings about dangerous currents and rip tides hadn’t been in his mind at gone midnight the night before.
For one thing, he hadn’t been expecting her to surface before midday and there she was, moving towards the delights of the cove with a spring in her step, which was more than he could say for himself.
He would have mentioned the tides if he’d had time to think the night before, but having not done so he couldn’t let her go down there with no such thoughts in her mind. Within seconds he was following her, dressed in a similar manner in shorts and a T-shirt with swimwear underneath, and feeling less than chirpy at not having fulfilled his function as welcome party to Amelie Benoir.
She was in the water when he got there, swimming effortlessly quite a way out, and he groaned. He could murder a coffee and some toast, followed by a leisurely read of the morning paper, but first he was going to have to swim out to her, explain the dangers, and suggest that she swim nearer to the shore as Ronnie, the lifeguard, didn’t appear on the beach until eight o’clock. The treacherous tides only surfaced rarely but strangers and locals alike needed to be aware of them.
When he bobbed up beside her in the water he gestured for her to swim back to the beach with him, and when they were on the sand she exclaimed, ‘Dr Fenchurch! Do you also like to swim at this time of day?’
‘Not unless I have to,’ he told her dryly. ‘I saw you walking past my place and came to warn you that there are dangerous tides on rare occasions that you need to be aware of. I should have mentioned it last night, but wasn’t expecting you to be out and about so early after your exhaustion of yesterday.’
‘Yes, I know,’ she said apologetically, ‘but my room was full of sunlight and I could hear the gulls. I just had to explore down here.’
She wasn’t going to tell him that today she didn’t want time to think, that she needed to be occupied every moment so that her thoughts wouldn’t be of a wedding dress taken back to the shop, a bridal cake that had to be cancelled, and on a larger scale a honeymoon that hadn’t materialised.
‘So can I expect you to be watchful?’ he asked, about to depart.
‘Yes, of course. I will take note of everything that you say.’
‘Good, and now I’m going back for some breakfast. Enjoy your weekend, Amelie.’ And off he went with the thought going round in his mind that there was a solitariness about her that was worrying.
As he settled down to a belated breakfast and the morning paper, Leo was hoping the new addition to the practice would find her own niche socially and workwise, and that his part in the proceedings would now be completed.
He could understand her eagerness to go down to the beach and having seen her swim understood why. She moved like a dream in the water, and now he supposed she would be exploring the rest of Bluebell Cove if she hadn’t gone back to bed. He hoped that Harry and Phoebe would take up where he’d left off and make her feel welcome.
For his own day he’d arranged to spend time on the tennis courts later in the morning with Naomi, an aspiring fashion model. On Saturday afternoons he always drove into town, and tonight was joining Georgina, the attractive owner of the local boutique, and her friends for a meal. So his day was planned.
Amelie hadn’t gone back to bed. She’d considered it, but knew that alone in the stillness of the bedroom the thoughts she was trying to keep in check would come sweeping over her and she would be lost.
Instead, she was going to explore the shops in the main street of the village, then walk as far as she could see on the road that ran along the top of the cliffs. And somewhere in the midst of her exploring she would eat.
The ‘Angel Gabriel’ hadn’t seemed too cheerful when he’d found her already in the sea at just gone six o’clock in the morning, but she was afraid he would have to get used to that because she loved to swim; and if life at the village practice was as demanding as the job she’d just left, it might be her only chance at that early hour.
So far she hadn’t met the senior partner but there was plenty of time for that. She’d met Leo, that was enough to be going on with, and for the rest of the weekend she wasn’t going to butt into his life again.
The shops were to her liking. They reminded her of those in the French village where she’d lived as a child. Amongst them was a grocer’s selling butter straight from the tub, a fishmonger’s with the morning’s fresh catch on display, and a combined village store and post office where people were good-humouredly passing the time of day without seeming to be in any hurry.
There was the feeling of life lived at a slower pace, she thought as she set off in the direction of the cliffs and the road that ran along the top of them. As she breathed in the fresh sea air and felt the sun on her face Amelie knew she’d done the right thing in accepting Ethan’s suggestion that she come to Bluebell Cove and she was here today of all days.
She could see the sea in the distance as she walked along. The tide had gone out and there were more people down on the sand now than there had been earlier. She was in love with the place already, she thought wonderingly. What must it be like to live here all the time?
When she looked over her shoulder she was surprised to see how far she’d walked. The village was almost out of sight and having no wish to make her arrival in Bluebell Cove brought to the notice of others by getting lost, she began to retrace her steps.
Eventually she came to tennis courts that had been empty when she’d passed earlier but were now occupied by an attractive blonde with long legs. Partnering her, resplendent in tennis shorts and a short-sleeved white shirt, was the man she’d been hoping to avoid for the rest of the weekend.
Fortunately he was serving with his back to her and with a few fast steps she was past before he’d had the chance to see her.
She was smiling as she neared the edge of the village. It made sense that a man like him would want someone as attractive as himself to have around him, she was thinking when suddenly the church bells began to ring out and as she drew nearer the reason was revealed.
A June bride, resplendent in a beautiful white dress and train, was being helped out of a wedding car that had stopped at the lychgate of the church, and Amelie felt as if a cloud had covered the sun.
So much for upbeat thinking and keeping occupied on this particular day. Who was she kidding? The hurt hadn’t gone away. She’d learned to live with it, but it was still there.
Turning