Summer at Blue Sands Cove by Chris Ward

Author:Chris Ward [Ward, CP]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AMMFA Publishing

She wasn’t in the mood for being seen, however, so she climbed up the cliff path to the south, wincing with each step. Instead of heading out to Sharker’s Rock, she took a fork leading further south, over the top of the headland and down into the neighbouring valley. Here, a grey sand, mostly shingle beach was accessible only via a steep path, meaning it was usually deserted. Grace climbed down, feeling more peaceful with each step as the curving crescent of deserted beach came up to meet her.

The sea was a calm lake. A couple of seabirds bobbed just offshore, before taking suddenly to flight, engaging in a brief squawking argument and then flapping off towards the headland. Far out to sea, a fishing boat moved imperceptibly slowly across the horizon.

Grace stripped down to her swimsuit and walked to the water’s edge. As always, it was crisply freezing at first, but once her body had become accustomed to it, the water’s caress made her feel better. She swam out a little way until she could no longer feel the rocks under her feet, treading water as the hawthorn scratches loosened.

Peace. Solitude. Silence.

She breathed in the sea air, wishing she could stay like this forever. She did a gentle circle, taking in the headlands, looking past Sharker’s Rock to the Mourning Lady just visible across the bay beyond. Out along the horizon, the fishing boat barely seemed to have moved.

‘Nearly there!’

Grace turned at the sound of the distant voice. Two small figures were descending the cliff path. They were moving quickly, the woman in front of the man, both laughing gaily as they went, their voices a soft, loving lilt even if most of their words were inaudible.

They were both naked.

Grace stared. Her eyes weren’t sharp enough to recognise them yet, but from the way certain parts … jiggled … she could tell they were … older.

Panicking as they reached the bottom of the path and began to step across the stones towards the narrow stretch of grey sand, Grace looked around, but she was totally exposed. There were no nearby rocky outcrops she could hide behind, and the sea was flat calm. All they would have to do was look up and—

‘Grace! Is that you? What are you doing down here? We didn’t know you were a convert to this kind of thing.’

With a heavy heart, Grace now recognised them. Belinda and Ron. Joan’s parents. She considered taking a deep breath and seeing how far down she could swim before releasing it again.

She was far enough offshore that certain parts remained out of focus if she didn’t concentrate too hard, but they were making no attempt to hide anything. She now remembered old pub rumours that this was a nudist beach, although she’d never seen any proof, nor heard of any. It was another one of those things you laughed about over a few pints on a Saturday night.

Now the proof was hanging freely in front of her. Joan’s mum lifted a hand to wave, making other parts shake.

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