Page 22 of The Secret Beach

‘Of course I’ll help. It’ll be fun.’

‘Will it? It looks terrifying.’

From the hallway came the sound of Graham and his family arriving.

‘Don’t say anything yet.’ Helen panicked. ‘I don’t want everyone knowing.’

The kitchen door opened and in spilled Graham, his wife Suzanne, and their three daughters Mia, Meg and Molly, otherwise known as the M and Ms. Nikki was never quite sure about them all having the same initial, but that was classic Suzanne: everything in her life matched perfectly, but you couldn’t hate her for it because she was kind and fun and endlessly patient with Graham, who was like a box of frogs, and always had a plan, from the moment he woke, whether he was organising a hog roast at the yacht club or going to look at a bargain he’d seen on Autotrader.

‘Nik! I need your advice.’ Suzanne was bearing down on her with a large folder tied with a ribbon. ‘Would you look at this for me? I keep changing things and it’s driving me insane.’

‘I’ve told her to bite the bullet and hand it over but she won’t listen to me, because what do I know?’ Graham bent down to hug his mother. ‘Hey, Mum.’

‘It’s my pitch for the Pier Hotel renovation.’ Suzanne laid the folder down on the dining table. ‘Tamara says they want to use local people for everything so I think I’m in with a chance. But I’m finding it so hard to know whether to go traditional, or industrial, or luxe, or something completely radical.’

Suzanne had an interior design business and although she’d gone from strength to strength in the last couple of years given the local property boom, this would be a huge contract for her. Tamara Lethbridge and her husband Duke had landed in Speedwell from West London a couple of years ago and were investing heavily in the town. They’d already opened a seafood café on the front, they were about to open a bar, and they’d bought the rundown Pier Hotel to do up.

‘Let’s have a look.’

Nikki leafed through her portfolio. It captured all the nostalgia of British seaside tradition. There were bright stripes and saucy vintage postcards blown up on the walls, and vintage memorabilia – a Punch and Judy stall in reception and a huge plaster 99 ice cream cone outside the front door.

‘I love it,’ said Nikki, thinking what a great eye Suzanne had. ‘It’s joyful and witty, and I think that’s what people want. We’ve had years of dark sludge and moodiness.’

‘I know, but is it sophisticated enough? I know Tamara wants the London crowd. Her Soho House mates.’ Suzanne made a face.

‘I think if the furnishings are high quality, you’ll be fine. People want to have fun when they come to the seaside. Let their hair down and be a bit silly.’

‘If you think it’s OK …’

‘Suze, just send it in.’ Graham was getting exasperated. He’d probably had this conversation a thousand times. ‘You’ve poured your heart and soul into it but it’s time to hand it over.’

‘I want this contract so much.’ Suzanne’s eyes were wide with longing. ‘I really want to raise my game now the M and Ms are bigger.’

‘You won’t get it if you don’t meet the deadline for the pitch.’

Nikki could see that Suzanne was overwhelmed. ‘It’s fabulous, Suzanne. Honestly. You know I wouldn’t let you submit it if I didn’t think it was good enough.’

Suzanne stared down at her work. ‘I’ve worked so bloody hard. I’ve come in at the right price, too. I haven’t been greedy.’

‘Look. You’re going for it, and that’s great. But if you don’t get it, it’s not as if you’re not busy.’

‘That’s what I keep telling her.’ Graham was indignant.

‘I know, but this will take me to the next level. Proper jobs, not just flinging about a few lampshades and cushions.’

Nikki shut the folder. ‘It’s beautiful, Suzanne. You’ve worked really hard. Give it to Tamara and forget about it.’

‘Easy to say.’ Suzanne heaved a sigh.

‘Lunch won’t be long,’ called Helen from the kitchen. ‘Can you get the girls to lay the table?’

Nikki’s heart went out to her sister-in-law. It was hard, putting your neck on the line. And she knew that Suzanne would really care what Tamara thought because she seemed slightly in thrall to the new arrivals and their entourage. The shiny new people. They were good for the town, of course, but they were slightly upsetting the natural balance because they had money and power and influence.

‘Guys! Sorry we’re late. Nightmare in A and E last night – I’ve only just got up!’ Jess swept in, followed by Juno, holding up her hands with a dramatic eye roll as she dumped a bottle of Shiraz on the table and unclipped her French bull terrier. Edith, a little sack of grey velvet, immediately did a lap of the table to be greeted by everyone.

Jess and Juno were an eye-catching duo. Jess, with her dark hair piled up, a bright pink cardigan and skin-tight capri pants, had the glamour of a fifties Hollywood star, while Juno’s blue hair and multiple piercings belied her sweet nature. The M and Ms tumbled over to her at once. They adored their cousin, and desperately tried to copy her punkish style.

There followed five minutes of hugs and exclamations as Jess held court, describing last night’s medical drama and filling them in on the gossip – there’d been a big fight in Tawcombe. Graham was by now outnumbered eight to one but he loved it, and served everyone drinks from the bar on the dresser. Suzanne quickly swept away her portfolio. Nikki suspected she didn’t want Jess to see it. Jess wasn’t always tactful, and even though she wasn’t particularly qualified to judge, it was probably better not to let her have any input.

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