The Cafe by the Sea

“No ferries, nothing. The weather’s on.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Joel. “In Chicago they land in nine feet of snow.”

“Yes,” said Flora. “Nice, fallen, calm snow. This isn’t like that. And they’re small planes too. I don’t think you’re getting home today.”

“Of course I am,” said Joel.

Just as he said this, there was a ripple and a short crackle, and the power went out.

“What the hell?” said Joel.

“It’s just a power cut,” said Flora carefully. “Happens all the time.”

Joel glanced at his phone.

“Which means the Wi-Fi has gone.”

“Yup, the Wi-Fi’s gone.”

Joel swore at some considerable length.

“But there’s the Foulkes deposition. The case is coming up. I was literally meant to be here for one night. And the Arnold convention. I absolutely don’t have time for this.”

“I was surprised you came,” said Colton.

Joel grimaced. Not as surprised as he’d been.

“Yes, but now I have to go.”

Flora and Colton looked at each other.

“Well, I don’t know what to do about that,” Colton said.

“Oh God,” said Flora. “And the boys have gone. They’ve got cattle on a plane, they’ve headed to the mainland. They’ll be having a terrible time of it.”

There was another huge crack of thunder.

“I’m stuck here?” said Joel.

“Can we take one of your cars?” said Flora to Colton. “Drive back to the village?”

“Ah,” said Colton. “Actually, they’ve all been put in the underground storage unit for safekeeping.”

“The what?”

Colton looked embarrassed.

“Well, salt spray is bad for the paintwork.”

“You must have kept out a Range Rover . . . something, surely?”

“The thing is, it’s an Overfinch?”

Flora didn’t know what that was but she recognized the tone of voice that indicated he wasn’t remotely interested in putting a vehicle at their service.

“COLTON!” said Flora. “Seriously, have you ever lived here in the winter?”

Colton looked embarrassed.

“If you want to be one of us, if you want to truly belong . . .” Flora stood up, her eyes flashing. “If you want us to give up our livelihoods, work for you, cook for you, stand with you, you have to commit. You have to be with us. You can’t just cherry-pick the pretty days. We have to be together, or we have nothing.”

She realized belatedly that she was trembling, and that both men were staring at her. She swallowed. This was not the kind of thing she’d ever done in her professional life before.

“Uh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Colton shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I see. I think I do.”

Joel was still just looking at her.

There came a shout from outside. It was Bertie Cooper, warning them that if they wanted to get back over, they had to do it now. He was having enormous trouble keeping the boat steady, even just in the narrow channel they had to cross.

“We’d better go,” said Flora. “I know it doesn’t look far, but we lose boats out here all the time. You can wreck-dive to your heart’s content down there. Everyone in full view of the shore, and no way to save them. Never has been.”

“COME ON!” came Bertie’s voice. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving now!”

The triple-glazed windows of the Rock had kept out the howl of the crashing summer storm, but once they were outside, they felt it. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t hear anything at all: the pounding of the waves and the huge shriek of the wind were all-encompassing. Colton marched on ahead—he refused to let them go alone—and Flora followed in his slipstream. On the jetty, she slipped suddenly, losing her footing. Before she knew it, Joel was there, grabbing her, holding her up, and she lost her breath and tried to thank him. He kept hold of her, kept hold of her elbow as he steered her toward the boat, and she felt his strong grip on her arm and was comforted.




The short crossing was awful. The boat pushed up and down, fighting them every step of the way. The motor kept giving out and Bertie nodded at them to bail in the back. Joel’s clothes were completely soaked. Their eyes were stinging, and Flora’s hair was flying round her head like a wild thing. Joel turned his head to her, midcrossing, as she stopped bailing for a moment and craned her neck to see how far they had to go to reach the land, and suddenly, with the water pouring in and the spray hanging in the air all around them, she looked like something from the depths: a nymph or a naiad.

She caught him looking at her and guessed he was worried.

“It’s okay,” she lied. “I’ve been in worse than this.” And he shook his head and took off his glasses, which he could no longer see through, and Flora looked at his beautiful dark brown eyes, then forced herself to turn back to watch the shore, as Bertie cursed and flushed the water out once more from the drenched engine. Finally, as the boat started to list alarmingly, and even Colton was looking concerned, and several people had come to their doorways to watch them, finally, soaked through and teeth chattering, they struggled to shore.

They were very relieved when Andy the barman came out of the Harbor’s Rest with blankets for them all. Flora took one gratefully, as well as one of the hot toddies he appeared with next. He ushered them into the bar.

There was a huge commotion suddenly and an enormous woofing was heard. Flora glanced around in consternation as a wet, hairy Bramble threw himself up against her, desperately pleased to see her, panting and wuffing with excitement. Flora was happy to kneel down and bury her head in the dog’s damp shoulder. She’d been much more frightened out on the sea than she’d let on. Joel and Colton, she suspected, hadn’t realized how much danger they were in—after all, it didn’t look terribly far. But every Mure child knew. She glanced at Bertie, who had gulped his hot toddy and was lifting up his second with trembling fingers, and he nodded back at her.

“Nobody else is out there today, are they?” she said.

Bertie shook his head.

“Nope, that’s it. No ferries, nothing.”

Joel looked down.

“Christ,” he said. “I don’t have more dry clothes.”

He had stared at the bag of outdoor gear Margo had bought him for the longest time before concluding, regretfully, that it wasn’t for him, that he wasn’t going to pretend he belonged up here when he knew, deep down, that he didn’t belong anywhere.

He’d been about to throw it out, then had wondered what Flora would have thought about that and instead asked Inge-Britt if she knew of anywhere to donate it. Inge-Britt had promptly handed it over to Charlie and Jan.

He regretted this now.

“I thought I was going home this afternoon.”

“Nae ferries nor planes noo,” said Bertie, and Joel got enough of his drift to nod. He glanced down. His expensive trousers were wringing wet.

“Ah,” he said.

“I’ve got clothes you can borrow,” said Colton. “But we’d have to get back there. Also, if the power’s off, my electronic closet isn’t going to work.”

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