Page 95 of Take Me Away

‘White wine,’ Isla says, smiling like she’s not the main event.

‘On the house,’ Ayo says, already pouring. ‘Future engagement gift.’

‘Ayo—’ I start, but he’s off, cackling.

‘Engagement’ Isla arches a brow.

‘Don’t feed the animals,’ I mutter. ‘Don’t you remember what he was like when we were younger?’

‘Oh, I remember.’ She grins, shaking her head, and I’m staring at her stupidly because she’s just so damn beautiful. ‘Used to give us lemonade after telling us off for getting sand on the floor, then tell everyone we were courting.’

The memory wallops me – her at fifteen, salt in her hair, grinning around a shared straw. That laugh. That summer sun. Shit.

Before I can get too lost in it, Nina waves us over to the corner table. ‘Kit!’ she calls. ‘Over here!’

Ayo slides our drinks over. ‘Go on, then,’ he says, nodding towards Nina and Peter. ‘Don’t keep the fan club waiting.’

We wind our way through the crowd to the corner booth. Nina’s already half standing, arms open, dragging Isla into a hug like she’s been waiting years. Then she turns to me.

‘Is this a date?’ She’s almost squealing and clapping her hands. I shoot Isla an apologetic look.

Peter rises beside her, offering a hand. He’s a big bloke. Sun-weathered. He towers over her, but he’s a gentle giant as he takes Isla’s hand and gives it a shake.

‘Evening, coxswain,’ he says with a grin. ‘Heard Dot’s planning a village round robin to keep everyone up to date with your romantic developments.’

I groan.

‘Peter,’ Nina says, though there’s not an ounce of bite in it.

‘What?’ Peter grins, full of charm and zero shame. ‘Just saying what I heard.’

Isla slips into the seat beside me, thigh brushing mine under the table, and just like that my brain short-circuits.

‘So you’re on the lifeboat crew with Kit?’ she asks Peter, clearly trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer.

‘Yep,’ Peter nods, leaning back, reaching for his pint. ‘Started out volunteering when I moved here from Plymouth. Deputy mechanic now, when I’m not working.’

‘He was the one who pulled those tourists off the rocks last Easter,’ Nina adds, proud as anything. ‘The ones who thought signs were suggestions.’

‘Weren’t just me,’ Peter says, ears reddening. ‘Whole crew showed up. Kit swam the line out.’

Isla’s eyes flick to me, and I do my best to act like it’s no big thing. It wasn’t. Not really. Just the job.

‘How did you guys meet?’ Isla asks, picking up on the way Nina keeps looking at Peter like he might evaporate if she blinks.

‘Well, it’s Sea Salt Bay, everyone knows everyone,’ Peter says, chuckling. ‘But after I’d been going into the café daily for months and she hadn’t worked out I was interested in her and not her baked goods, fate stepped in. You remember, Kit? That storm call-out when the lighthouse collapsed? Next morning I walked in half-dead and took out a whole shelf of jam trying to order coffee.’

‘I remember Nina threatening to ban you,’ I say, smirking. ‘Called you a “maritime menace to jam-related order”.’

Peter laughs. Nina just shakes her head, reaching for his hand. ‘Turns out he’s better with preserves in other contexts.’

‘Nina,’ Peter says, mock-scandalised, picking up her hand and dropping a kiss to her palm. ‘There are children present.’

It should be funny. It is. But it also hits somewhere low in my chest. Not jealousy – just a reminder. What it’s like to have that. To be that person for someone.

‘So,’ Isla says, sipping her wine, ‘Nina said you’re working with the research team?’

Peter gestures at me. ‘We can’t all charm the fish from the sea like this one. I’m helping with the research into conservation of the waters.’