Page 70 of The Summer That Changed Us

She watched a while longer. A van appeared and reversed down the pier to where the pallets were waiting. The driver and a passenger jumped out, lowered the tailgate at the back and between them the crates were loaded up. Within minutes the van doors were slammed, and the driver pulled off, back up to the harbour road and drove away. One of the fishermen began walking away from the boat, leaving the other one hosing down the deck.

At that moment the heavens opened, and the rain began in earnest. Sheets of water fell from the sky and courtesy of the wind blowing in from the sea, it came at Grace like icy darts. She pulled the umbrella down sideways to protect her face, but the wind tore it inside out.

‘Bloody hell!’ she yelled, trying to refold it the right way.

She started to run towards the harbour to look for shelter. Her hood blew back and within seconds her hair was plastered to her head. Ahead of her, the fisherman had his head down and looked well protected from the torrent. He jogged off along the road purposefully and, with a lack of bright ideas of her own, she splashed through the puddles after him.

Grace was already out of breath and sweating inside her plastic coat; she hoped his destination was close by. He unlocked a set of double doors set into a long stone building. It looked like a row of deserted garages, but as she got closer she realised it was a run of boatsheds. Faded signs above each door confirmed it. Grace stopped outside the one which the fisherman had gone through and read the sign: McGill and Sons.

Grace pushed the door open, intending to just poke her head inside, but the weather had other ideas and the wind and rain blew her in. ‘Whoops! Hello.’

‘Hello.’ The fisherman was taking off his yellow coat and gave her a bemused smile. ‘Come on in.’

‘Sorry.’ She leaned against the door to shut it, panting with exertion. ‘I was going to ask if I could come in out of the rain, but I already have.’

‘Um. Sure.’ He stepped out of his waterproof trousers and hung them up next to his jacket. His dark hair stuck to his forehead in damp clumps.

‘Are you Finn, by any chance?’ She stood there dripping, taking in the alien world of the boatshed with its heaps of crates, lobster pots and nets, engine parts, oil drums, coils of ropes, shelves of storage boxes.

‘I am,’ he said, surprised.

‘I’m Grace, a friend of your wife.’

His face split into a broad smile and reached out to shake her hand. ‘Great to meet you.’

‘I’ve heard all about you.’ They both spoke together and smiled.

‘All good, I hope?’ Again, they said it in unison and this time they laughed.

‘The best,’ Grace reassured him swiftly. It was a little white lie but there was no way on this earth that she could let on that she knew Robyn had tried to tempt him to bed and he’d refused her. He’d probably chuck her back out in the rain.

‘Tea?’ Finn inclined his head to a tiny kitchenette on the far side of the boatshed.

Grace shivered. ‘Yes please.’

‘I should thank you,’ said Finn, over his shoulder at her while he washed his hands and then filled the kettle. ‘Meeting you and Katie has come just at the right time for her. She’s had it rough the last couple of years.’

‘You both have.’ Grace caught sight of herself in a tarnished mirror which hung from the wall and almost passed out with shock. Finn’s encounter with the elements had left him looking windswept and handsomely damp; she looked like the crazy scientist in Back to the Future. She quickly ran her hands through her hair, but her fingers snagged on so many knots that she gave up.

‘Yep.’ He frowned and pressed his lips together as if the subject was closed.

Poor guy. She wondered if he found it as difficult to open up as Robyn did? She said nothing for a few moments while the kettle boiled and Finn poured water into mugs, sniffed at the milk and poured a dribble into his.

‘Oh, I’ve just remembered something.’ He rummaged under the sink and brought out an old biscuit tin. He pulled the lid off and offered her the tin. ‘Would you like a coconut flapjack?’

‘Yes please.’ Her mouth was already watering. She took a bite. It was sweet and chewy with the added crunch of the coconut. ‘Delicious.’

He grinned. ‘Thanks. It’s my own recipe.’

‘I used to bake,’ said Grace wistfully, ‘but there’s not much point making a fuss for one.’

Finn sucked in a breath. ‘I should have said something, pet, I’m so sorry for your loss. Robyn told me all about it. Well, anytime you want feeding and you can’t be bothered, come round ours, you’ll always be welcome.’

‘That’s very kind,’ she nodded gratefully, aware that her eyes were probably glittering with tears as she nodded. ‘Thank you very much.’

‘So, this sea glass club,’ he handed her a mug of tea. ‘Robyn’s now completely obsessed with collecting the stuff. It’s taking over our house.’

‘It is addictive,’ she admitted. ‘Plus, we enjoy each other’s company while we’re doing it. And the sea glass itself is gorgeous.’