from his waist until he got to the beach, picked up his surfboard, a bag with his rash vest, wetsuit boots, surf gloves and a towel, and set off down the hill. An hour or so riding the waves was all he needed to regain his equilibrium.

Chapter Three

An hour later, showered and changed into denim shorts and a black vest top, Hattie took her camera bag which held her Nikon D810 and her tripod camera equipment out of her top box and slung the camera around her neck,. Then she moved her motorbike around to the back yard and parked it by the side of the shed before heading off down to the harbour, hoping she would find a café open and be able to grab some breakfast. She probably should have headed uphill for the corner shop instead, and stocked up on a few supplies, but she was ridiculously eager to see the beach and take some photographs. Photography was a hobby of hers, bringing her in a small, part-time income, and was one of the ways she chilled out. She specialised in ‘people photography’ and loved to capture people in spontaneous, relaxed moments, especially action shots. It wasn’t ten o’clock, so she doubted if the beach would be very busy this early on a Saturday morning, but she thought she might catch a few fishing boats, and early bird tourists, and then she could head to Medden Beach where the local surfers went to ride the waves.

To her surprise, there were a few families strolling along the harbour front, and to her relief, the café was open. Hattie headed straight for it and ordered a cup of coffee and two slices of toast off the pleasant lady serving, then sat down at a table facing the harbour, where she could see a couple of boats bobbing about in the distance.

‘Here you are, dear. Down for a holiday, are you?’ The waitress came over with Hattie’s breakfast and placed it down on the table in front of her.

‘I’m living here temporarily,’ Hattie replied. ‘I didn’t expect it to be so busy this early in the morning.’

‘It’s half-term week; some of the families came down last night, wanting to make the most of the week off.’ The waitress flashed her a smile. ‘Enjoy.’ Then she went to serve the next customer.

Hattie sat nibbling her toast, gazing out at the harbour, reliving the events of the last week. Firstly Brian, her landlord, had called around on Tuesday evening to give her notice to leave as he needed the flat for his daughter. Then yesterday, George, her boss, had come into work looking grim, called a meeting and told them all that unfortunately the Bridgnorth branch of Milton and Banner Insurance was closing that day and everyone was being made redundant – bar himself, who would be moving to manage another office. Hattie had been shocked and panicked. Okay, she didn’t look on Milton and Banner as her forever job, but she worked with a lovely crowd and she needed the wage. Now, she was jobless and homeless. How could her life change so drastically so suddenly?

Trying to keep positive, she had reminded herself that she had her share of the money from Uncle Albert’s cottage, when it was sold, and also her redundancy money when it came through. She’d been working for Milton and Banner for five years so the redundancy money was enough to tide her over for a few months whilst she tried to turn her passion for photography into a full-time business. And she could live in Uncle Albert’s cottage until it was sold, which would save her rent money. She’d phoned her dad to check that he didn’t object and he’d agreed, asking her if she could tidy the cottage up a bit while she was there and also reminding her that the house would be harder to sell with a ‘tenant’ so she had to tell the estate agent that she was just ‘looking after it’ and it would definitely be sold vacant. Great, thanks for being concerned that I’ve lost my job and my house, Dad, she’d thought as she’d ended the call. She’d texted her mother who was on a Caribbean cruise with her stepfather, to let her know her change of address and circumstances, but hadn’t received a reply yet. Not that she expected one. Both her parents were so wrapped up in their own lives with new partners and families, they didn’t have time for their eldest child, the only one they shared together. Well, she was twenty-eight, which was plenty old enough to take care of herself, and it wasn’t as if she was penniless, was it? She knew that if she was really in need, both her parents would help her out like a shot.

George had let them all go after telling them the redundancy news, so they’d congregated in the coffee bar around the corner, all commiserating with one another, cheering each other up, promising to keep in touch. Hattie had phoned Brian to tell him she would be moving out that day, then had headed home, phoned Mali, who had immediately come over after school to cheer her up and help her pack, then Hattie had set off for Cornwall.

Last night, she had wondered if she’d done the right thing, but now, sitting here looking out at the boats bobbing about on the endless blue sea, she was sure she had. A summer in Cornwall, tidying up the cottage ready to sell and setting up her photography business, was just what she needed. It was a shame about her hostile neighbour – especially when he was so undeniably easy on the eye – but she would avoid him as much as she could. This was a new chapter in her life, and she was going to seize it with both hands.

When she’d finished her breakfast and taken a few shots of the harbour, Hattie decided to

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